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The Game -The Black Slim Shady lyrics

Here are the lyrics for The Game -The Black Slim Shady .

Song Info

[Interluder]


Hey, grandma
Yeah, I’m still out here makin’ my Uber runs
I’ll be home soon
I just got one more pick up, kinda close to 8 Mile
Okay, okay, love you too

[Intro: The Game]
G-G-G-G, Shady (G-G)
Shady Aftermath (Yeah)
Me and Hit-Boy back on our s*it, let’s go
Yeah (G-G)

[Chorus: The Game]
I don’t think they know who they f*ckin’ with
Pull that truck around, n**gas is duckin’ clips
Hi, I’m the Black Slim Shady
I unpack the heat with my oven mitts
I tip-toe around in my Chucks and s*it
Hi, I’m the Black Slim Shady

[Verse]


It’s Game, sick in the brain
Sick as the day that I came
Hennessy runnin’ through my veins,
I load up the clip and aim
Sick of you n**gas talkin’ like
you won’t get wet in the rain
Now I’m singin’ Frank Ocean, and
you get hit with this Novacane
Sick and tired of n**gas, b**ches,
and critics, they all the same
Lame games they playin’, lyin’,
tryin’ me for my name
I stick my d*ck in your podcast
Shallow b**ch on the show, just to lick the
tip it’s ridiculous, she watchin’ it grow
Cross eyed-ed, crosshairs on my enemies
If you cross the street, you run into me,
you crash in to a light bolt
Now you crawlin’ out the
driver side like a centipede
And me, I’m finna be on a
jet to the Phillipines
Spill the beans, kick the Kool-Aid,
overtell, God don’t intervene
While I’m smashin’ Saweetie pussy to smithereens
It’s the G-A-ficky-ficky-M,
paint my face, I’m him
Puttin’ this big black d*ck in your skims

[Chorus]


I don’t think they know who they f*ckin’ with
Pull that truck around, n**gas is duckin’ clips
Hi, I’m the Black Slim Shady
I unpack the heat with my oven mitts
I tip-toe around in my Chucks and s*it
Hi, I’m the Black Slim Shady

[Verse]


I killed Dr. Dre in my basement last night
I was wasted last night,
I went ape s*it last night
Chopped his body up, and
forget where I placed it last night
Had a slice of humble pie,
I couldn’t taste it last night (Hahaha)
Lost my taste and my smell,
I got Omarion
Me and Dr. Fauci went to
Crazy Girls and then we got our party on
So fee-fi-fum, I’m with 40 goin’ dumb
Not E-40, the other 40, I’m with
Canadians in Drake’s house
(Havin’ a stakeout)
And I’m so tired of
orderin’ takeout, what’s beef?
Beef is when you tell the
chef to bring them steaks out
So let’s play house with the
Dracos and the AR
Stay the f*ck up off of
Stanley grass and take a s*it in they yard
And my d*ck stay hard, when
I see Lizzo on the internet
(Here it is another BBL)
And my d*ck get little on the internet
My intellect is NFT’s and Cryptos,
I can never be a Crip though
I tip-toe with my red rag around six O’s

[Interlude 2: Uber Driver & The Game]
Chuck?
Yeah
Hey, man, let’s get you out the rain
Good lookin’, how’s your night goin’, bro?
I’m cool, man, you don’t need that mask
Nobody cares about that s*it anymore
You got a charger up there with you?
Yeah, for sure, it reaches all the way back there too
Good lookin’, homie
Ayo, I really f*ck with that starter cap,
that s*it hard as f*ck
Crazy story behind it, my brother Stan, rest in peace
What?
He gave me this hat twenty-two years ago
Damn
It’s my favorite
Can I see that s*it for a minute?
Uh, yeah, sure
Oh, s*it, this motherf*cker autographed and everything
Who signed it for you?
Eminem
He used to be like this rap God
Man, me and my brother praised him
Back when I was little,
I don’t really like any of his new stuff
Woah, wait, I know where we’re goin’,
wait, why do you have a gu—?
Yo, shut the f8ck up
Ayy, man, I’m drivin’, I’ll get you there wait
I’ll take you, I’m a fan, that’s cool
Stop lookin’ back, stop lookin’ back here
It’s cool dude, man,
you don’t need to do this
Focus on the f*ckin’ road
Okay
Yo, come on, man
Alright
Drive
Alright, alright
Drive
We’ll go, we’ll go
Shut the f*ck up
Alright

[Verse ]


Ask Dre
All I got is my word, my d*ck and my MAC 10
One thing you can never have is
my motherf*ckin’ Black… skin
This ain’t no suit that I wore
This ain’t a mansion, a hangin’ plaque,
this ain’t no stupid award
So, oh, he goes platinum
And, oh, I’m on the ‘Math with him
He got all the Blackest friends
He wants to be African, me
Left for dead on the Doctor’s Advocate
Dre never executive-produced it,
I just imagined it
Oh, here goes the magic tricks
Candy shops and the magic stick
DeAngelo Bailey got in shape to
whoop your ass again
You depressed, you just maskin’ it
You pop a Adderall, a Vicodin, and a Aspirin
But the math wasn’t mathin’ in
So pass me the torch ’cause the torture in my mind
With the voice that defied
rhymes will force the blind eye
To see that I was in the white
Rolls Royce with five .9’s
When you was pretendin’ to be the
white Royce da 5’9″
I just crossed a fine line
Might just force the white guy to call D12 so
he can be the pork they grind, swine
And the biggest rapper in
Detroit, that award is Sean Don
So uncork the Chardonnay and
stick my fork in white wine
I never heard you in a club,
I never heard you in a bar
Eleven albums and ten never got played inside of my car
I’d rather listen to Snitch9ine
like sixty-nine times
And participate in sixty-nines with
sixty-nine nuns than listen to you
You’re a Karen, call the cops,
tell ’em it’s a Black man on your block
With a Glock and he got it cocked
And the tattoos on his face is a star and a teardrop
He standin’ on a teal drop and
he says he can feel Pac in the air
Like Phil Collins, listen to him, he still wildin’
(Ah, Epstein chased me around Epstein island)
So silence, I’m—, I’m thinkin’, uh, mm, yeah
Nothin’ rhymes with orange!
So ficky-ficky Slim Shady, please, stand up
Shoot the fade with me,
I’d love to put these hands up
I could .40 Glock you, unarmed
Drop the world on your head with one arm
Dear Slim, Hailie’s with me and
she’s unharmed for now
(Dad, I’m really scared)
These are the deepest secrets,
I keep and I be on defence
‘Cause G’s ain’t supposed to fold up
With all the facades I hold up inside
of my mind, I froze up
I’m cold as COVID, Ebola,
the Spanish flu, and Corona
The Zika virus, pneumonia is
deep inside my persona
On each side of my shoulders is
demons chasin’ Jehovah
The renegade or the soldier,
I really gave it to Hova (How it feel?)
Twenty-three years, still ain’t penetratin’ the culture
You are not, top five, in mine,
B.I.G or Pac eyes
No André, no Nas,
stop tellin’ white lies
Sniff a white line, this the right time
I Suge Knight Vanilla Ice,
I’m not Mr. Nice Guy

[Bridge]


I’m crazy (I’m crazy, I’m crazy)
I’m crazy (I’m crazy, I’m crazy)
I’m not Mr. Nice Guy
I’m crazy (I’m crazy, I’m crazy)
Dre know
I’m crazy (I’m crazy, I’m crazy)
Way to f*ckin’ go

[Verse ]


You done pissed off Jimmy,
Universal, and Interscope
Know, I got Jimmy, Slim, 50,
and Universal in a scope
(‘Cause I’m shady) Shadier than him
(I’m crazy) Crazier than Kim
So when the Bat signal goes up in
the clouds above the buildings
I hope you live long enough to
see heroes turn into villains
Oh, you think I’m a Joker?
Well, riddle me this
You love your mother?
Well, I’m cleanin’ out your closet for
you and your half-brother
And I told you when I was in
Detroit, I wanna go to 8 Mile
‘Cause when I was little to get some
M&M’s, I had to walk eight miles
But you wouldn’t leave the studio,
your life is on loop
That’s why I’m doggy in style,
’cause n**gas rather bump Snoop
And I’m a lyrical .50 cal
Leave his brain all thin, wind,
the games all endin’
The chainsaw, vrin, vrin
Hello? Hello?
Pagin’ Dr. Dre?
He ain’t got a lot to say
But since Curtis always do,
let him write the rhymes for you
Tell him to clip the wings on
my butterfly tatt’ and force
’em back in the cocoon
Now does he still rap or did
he have a change of heart too?
The chick on the show wasn’t pickin’ me
and Mariah wasn’t pickin’ you
So the cannons is blam-blammin’
and if it jam then I unjam it
And wipe down my stripper pole with
the hair grease from your bandana
You wish you was Santana or Cam in them 10 J’s
Durag for ten years and never had one wave
And I was that runaway slave,
that they buried in that one grave
And some say he would back to
haunt Slim Shady one day
Now I’m here, hope you ready,
this is not mom’s spaghetti
This your dad was twenty-two
when he ate lil’ Debbie
He takes the cake
‘Cause she was only fifteen,
so how could one not
sympathize with her havin’ you as a teen?
She had to lose herself in the moment,
give up her dreams
Just to see her son out here
lookin’ like a wigger in jeans (Yeah)
Little Marshall Mathers
Mad ’cause nobody thinks that
little Marshall matters
That sentiment’s hard to gather
Let’s get this s*it all together,
the picture was ripped, I fixed it
But none with me, you, and
50, let’s stitch this s*it all together
You like it, Slim?
I made it just for you
I even kidnapped Stan’s brother
and baited him here for you
But you would just say, “No”
Probably leave us in the blistering cold
God made you damn near perfect,
he just missed your soul
You ain’t the shell of who you used to be
And after you, it’s me, on the
Uzi spree like it’s two of me
And Matthew’s dead now,
it’s just you and me
The sweatpants, the dad hat,
durag and no jewelry
Umm, is that cultural appropriation
Ask Paul if it’s even appropriate for me to
make that statement, rude of me
How your day went?
Did you re-dye your beard or get another

face lift or do shrooms in your mom’s basement
Until you nod and see spaceships
And the aliens inside it come and
tell you your talent’s wasted
Then you wake up and you ain’t s*it
I know you fiendin’ for a Dr. Dre bass hit
How ironic, an addict in a basement
And now I chronic, ’cause
I done had it with the fake s*it
You never understood ebonics or a cadence
I press everything like a weight bench
And every time the plate hits,
you off another playlist
Sorry, it ain’t workin’ out
N**gas shootin’, Billy Blanks

(It’s my winner’s speech)
While I’m here, I should really thank

MGK, UGK, Tech N9ne, Uzi spray
My other twelve personalities
wasn’t really in the mood today
Hi, kids, here’s somethin’ funny,
let’s all say, “N**ga” once
Crashed the car, hit and run
Jumped out, hid the gun
Your fans want a rap god, well,
f*ck it, I’ma give ’em one
I came to put Slim in a box but
he already live in one

[Outro]


Mr. Shady, don’t be shady
Pick that pen up, don’t be lazy
Call up Dre and get that Dre beat
Jump off stage if s*it get crazy
Mr. Shady, don’t be shady
Pick that pen up, don’t be lazy
Call up Dre and get that Dre beat
Jump off stage if s*it get crazy

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