Marshall Mathers [Croatian translation]

[Intro]

You know, I just don't get it

Last year I was nobody, this year I'm selling records

Now everybody wants to come around

Like I owe 'em somethin'

The fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?

Get the fuck outta here

[Hook 1]

You see, I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)

I'm just a regular guy

I don't know why all the fuss about me (Fuss about me)

Nobody ever gave a fuck before

All they did was doubt me (Did was doubt me)

Now everybody wanna run their mouth

And try to take shots at me (Take shots at me)

[Verse 1]

Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'

You might see me walkin' a dead Rottweiler dog

With its head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar

Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'

Or leanin' out a window with a cocked shotgun

Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot Pac in

Looking for Big's killers, dressin' ridiculous

Blue and red, like I don't see what the big deal is

Double barrel 12-gauge bigger than Chris Wallace

Pissed off 'cause Biggie and Pac just missed all this

Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em

And get dollars that shoulda been theirs like they switched wallets

And amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wrist watches

I just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous

And walk around with an empty bottle of Remy Martin

Startin' shit like some twenty-six-year-old skinny Cartman (Goddamn it!)

An anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin

Whose instinct's to kill N'Sync, don't get me started

These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage

What's this bitch, retarded? Give me back my sixteen dollars!

All I see is sissies in magazines smilin'

Whatever happened to wilin' out and being violent?

Whatever happened to catchin'

A good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin'

And gettin' your shoes, coat and your hat tooken

[Bridge]

New Kids on the Block suck a lot of dick

Boy/girl groups make me sick

And I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public

I'ma love it (Hahaha)

[Verse 2]

Vanilla Ice don't like me (uh-uh)

He said some shit in Vibe to spite me (yo)

Then went and dyed his hair just like me (ha-ha)

A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me

And run around screamin' "I don't care, just bite me!" (na-na)

I think I was put here to annoy the world

And destroy your little four-year-old boy or girl

Plus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer

And call themselves clowns ‘cause they look queer

Faggy 2 Dope and Silent Gay

Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away (Fuckin' punks)

And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' faggots the fuck out

Ask 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out

After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out

Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck — blaow!

Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again

When you ain't seen a fuckin' mile road south of 10

And I don't need help from D12 to beat up two females

In make-up who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails

"Slim Anus"? You damn right, slim anus

I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flamin' faggots

[Hook 2]

'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)

I'm not a wrestler guy

I'll knock you out if you talk about me (You talk about me)

Come and see me on the streets alone

If you assholes doubt me (Assholes doubt me)

And if you wanna run your mouth

Then come take your best shot at me (Best shot at me)

[Verse 3]

Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?

You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy

Now because of this blonde mop that's on top

Of this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?

The underground just spunned around and did a three-sixty

Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies

"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy

So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy"

My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million

She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'

Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?

All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress

Which is it, bitch: Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?

It doesn't matter, {your attorney Fred Gibson's a} faggot

Talkin' about I fabricated my past

He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass (Ugh!)

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?

For every million I make, another relative sues

Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper

All of a sudden I got ninety-some cousins (Hey it's me!)

A half-brother and sister who never seen me

Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV

Now everybody's so happy and proud

I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house (Hey!)

And then to top it off I walked to the news stand

To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp

Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast

And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help

Uh, here, "XXL! XXL!"

Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell

Aw, fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

[Hook 1]

'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)

I'm just a regular guy

I don't know why all the fuss about me (Fuss about me)

Nobody ever gave a fuck before

All they did was doubt me (Did was doubt me)

Now everybody wanna run their mouth

And try to take shots at me (Take shots at me)

Because I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)

I'm just a regular guy

I don't know why all the fuss about me (Fuss about me)

Nobody ever gave a fuck before

All they did was doubt me (Did was doubt me)

Now everybody wanna run their mouth

And try to take shots at me (Take shots at me)

• Artist:Eminem
• Album:The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)