Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Eminem
Eminem
Vocals
Sly Pyper
Sly Pyper
Vocals
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Keyboards
Curt Chambers
Curt Chambers
Guitar
R. Palmer
R. Palmer
Spoken Word
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Songwriter
Marshall Mathers
Marshall Mathers
Songwriter
Andre Young
Andre Young
Songwriter
Thomas Cheval
Thomas Cheval
Songwriter
S. Jordan
S. Jordan
Songwriter
Andreas Holten
Andreas Holten
Songwriter
Hans van Hemert
Hans van Hemert
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eminem
Eminem
Co-Producer
Callus
Callus
Producer
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Producer
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
Recording Engineer
Tony Campana
Tony Campana
Recording Engineer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer
Quentin Gilkey
Quentin Gilkey
Recording Engineer
Lola Romero
Lola Romero
Recording Engineer
Fredwreck
Fredwreck
Recording Engineer
Jeremy Zumo Kollie
Jeremy Zumo Kollie
Assistant Recording Engineer
Jeffery “Champ” Massey
Assistant Recording Engineer
Vic Luevanos
Vic Luevanos
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

The coup de grâce is the final shot Right between the eyes Also known (haha) as the kill shot (people, yeah) Something to stop the pain (woo, it feels so good to be back) Bad Alright, here we go, alright, I'ma start this, I got it Before I get banned, kicked off Twitter And TikTok 'cause they so damn ticked off, bitter They want me to bounce (like what?) like a fabric softener We just got rid of Ye, go kick rocks with him (ayy) But Dre on beats with the white-faced blondie on the mic Is like (what?) havin' Steady B and Cool C in the ride Like we rap and did a little bank robbery on the side So they want beef, we can make like Bonnie and collide Haters can meet the same exact fate as my dad, wait Least he didn't miss me graduate (okay, yeah, great) But, Mom, do I still act eight? Uh, maybe a little, Debbie (what?) like a snack cake (slut) But if this is what he do to his mom Imagine what he'd do to you, I'm a lunatic armed And if it's you I use to clip on, for you to respond Is ludicrous, ma, look at what your uterus spawned, Lucifer Must be a cold day in Hell (yeah) Tell me, what have we done? (Woah) Take me out my misery, I bought Heaven when it was up for sale And now I need a refund, bae (yeah, wait, what the fuck? Where'd I put my–) I think someone messed with my meds probably (yo, who took my–) I bet it's my ex, Molly, that I've bludgeoned to death Already severed the head, I smell the fresh scent of flesh rotting So it's breakfast in bed if I wake up next to a dead body (ah) Multiple lacerations, contusions, abrasions, bruises Hallucinations, delusions, abusive, my language usage They lose it when Dre produced it, as soon as he plays the music It's lunacy, treat the beat like a choice, Shady chews it Now all I see is dollar signs, losers Bitch, I was in them trenches like them Columbine shooters (like them Columbine shooters) I was down bad, broke, and almost abandoned hope (now what?) Now my followers are like a Satanic cult (what?) Yeah, they listen to me like when Manson spoke (shh) They say I don't know struggle no more, that's a joke (haha) Bitch, the fuckin' elevator in my mansion's broke (see?) I have to walk like half a block to get a can of Coke (damn) And Candace O, I ain't mad at her (ah) I ain't gon' throw the fact bitch forgot she was Black back at her Laugh at her like them crackers she's backin' after her back is turned In a cute MAGA hat with her brand-new White Lives Matter shirt (haha, nope) Or say this MAGA dirtbag in a skirt Just opened the biggest can of worms on the whole planet Earth Call her "Grand Wizard" (yeah), "Klandace" (haha), or "Grand Dragon," or Like the national anthem, I won't stand for the tramp (why?) But I can't diss her 'cause my plans are to get in her pants And I'll blow my chance if I answer back to her My shit is like taking Deborah Mathers at her word Yeah, I'm that absurd, we had a spat, then afterwards We squashed the beef like a hamburger patty, or should I say gigantic turd? 'Cause I put that shit to bed like Amber Heard at a Mattress Firm (slut) But if this is what he do to his mom (pfft) Imagine what he'd do to you (ha), I'm a lunatic armed And if it's you I use to clip on, for you to respond Is ludicrous, ma, look at what your uterus spawned, Lucifer This must be a cold day in Hell (yeah) Tell me, what have we done? (Woah) Take me out my misery, I bought Heaven when it was up for sale And now I need a refund, bae (yeah) So whether you friend or you are foe (woah) Far as bars go, even fuckin' retards know (yeah) That as far as smoke with me, I don't think it'd be smart, so (woah) Might as well go lookin' for smoke with Lamar, bro (yeah, yeah) But Marshall, you're gettin' more perverse every time you record a verse and It's like you came from 2000, stepped out a portal, cursin' Hurlin' horrible slurs towards the world and Why can't you make fun of people behind their backs like a normal person? But when you reach these heights, freedom of speech dies (what?) With every line that I recite, them PC police try To throw me in jail with no bail like a peace prize For all of them years (what?), they reduced me to tears (yeah) Tried to shrink me to pea-sized, only to see my (what?) Self-esteem rise, now these are my replies (mm) They made me eat shit (shit), I fed it back to 'em three times (yeah) Stepfather's the only (what?) one I ever been beat by (ha) Squeeze mics like Burmese py– (yeah) 'Thons (yeah), here's for each time (what?) You sleep on the flow (what?), ho, you hear these strings climb (yeah) You reap what you sow (so what?), so first I must weave rhymes (yeah) So seamlessly, then I'ma leave eyes In a state of disbelief, my Genius is a trait, so the gap's in our genes, right? (Haha, the gap) At least that's what it seems like And I'm Lucifer and Dre's the producer for the antichrist
Writer(s): Andre Young, Andreas Holten, Hans Van Hemert, Luis Resto, Marshall Mathers, S. Jordan, Thomas Cheval Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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