| You gotta' meet halfway sometimes
|
| I’m ain’t putting all my effort into digging up a dim-
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| If it ain’t got a -mond at the end or it’s just a cubic zirconia
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| Trying to pretend, listen
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| Now I done spent so many thousands on your ass
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| Just for you to turn your back on me and laugh
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| I knew I should’ve never took your math
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| I shoulda' just focused in class in them long ass two hour labs!
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| You gotta' give me what I want
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| So I can give you what you need
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| The typa' shit I gotta love
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| The typa' shit that’s made of dreams
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| I like my hits the way I like my love
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| And drugs, craving it fiends
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| I need to come for your heart
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| If you want a taste of me
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| I don’t come easy, normally can’t stand by
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| If you can do me like you’ve never done before
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| I’ll hold you down
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| If you want me to be yours
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| You gotta' take one for the team
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| I’ll be loyal to you
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| If you say you’ll keep me next to green
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| Don’t make a scene
|
| What the fuck do you mean?
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| If I can’t have you then I’d rather watch you fuckin' bleed
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| I’ll try my best to drag your heavy body up a tree
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| Have you hangin' by your neck for all the rappers to see
|
| I’m trying my best to keep calm
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| But I put you before myself, my mom, and God
|
| How dare you try to make me a mockery
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| A commodity, a pack of ketchup sitting in a drawer
|
| 'Cause it’s not in need
|
| My apologies if you scared of me
|
| I love you, but why the fuck are you not loving me!
|
| Let’s take it back to Marshall Mathers
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| When I slit your fucking throat screaming
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| Bleed bitch, bleed!
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| Bleed!
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| And as I watch the blood pour from her neck
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| I use that same dagger on me |