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Eminem:Nail In The Coffin Lyrics

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Nail in the Coffin

This song is by Eminem.

This mother fucker again?
Just won't shut up, will you?
Talkin' 'bout I owe you
Bitch you owe me, I'm promoting you right now
Let's put the nail in the coffin

I don't wanna be like this
I don't really wanna hurt no feelings
But I'm only being real when I say
Nobody wants to hear this grandfather rap (nope)
And old men have heart attacks
And I don't wanna be responsible for that
So put the mic down and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity

I would never claim to be no
Ray Benzino
An 83 year old, fake Pacino
So how can he hold me over some balcony
Without throwing his lower back out
As soon as he goes to lift me?
Please don't, you'll probably fall with me
And our asses will both be history
But then again, you'll finally get your wish
Cause you'll be all over the street like 50 Cent
Fucking punk, pussy, fuck you chump
Give me a one-on-one, see if I don't fuck you up
Tryna jump the ruff ryders and they cut you up
And you put Jada on a track, thats how much you suck
Dick in the industry
Swear that you in the streets, hustling
You sit behind a fucking desk at the Source butt kissing
And begging muthafuckas for guest appearances
And you cant even get the clearance
Cause real lyricists don't even respect you, or take you serious
It's not that we don't like you,
We hate you, period!
Talk about a midlife crisis, damn
Last week you was shaking Obie Trice's hand
Now he's a busta? What the fuck's with that
Get on a track dissing us, kissing 50's ass
And asking me what I know about indictments, bite me!
Bitch, I got two cases, and probation, fight me!
What do I know about standing in front of a judge like a man
Ready to take whatever sentence he hands
What you know about your wife slicing her wrists
Right in front of the only thing you have in this world,
A little girl
And I'll put that on her
When this is all over
I would never try to make her a star, and eat off her
I don't shit about no shopping rocks
But what you know about hip-hop shops, rocking spots
When you're the only white boy up in that bitch, just ripping
Pressing up your own flyers, and your stickers
Sticking them bitches up after spending six hours at Kinko's
Making copies of your covers of cassette singles
To sell them out of the trunk of your tracer
Spending your whole pay check at disc makers
What you know about being bullied over half your life
Oh thats right, you should know what that's like, you're half white!
Vanilla ice, full of beans and rice, I'm eating you alive inside, Jesus Christ!
If you that much of a gangsta, put the mic down
You should be out killing muthafuckas right now
Kill a muthafucka dead, kill him dead bitch
Shoot him in the fucking head, go ahead bitch
Slap my mom, slap the fuck out of her
She can't sue you, she wouldn't get a buck out of you
Cause you're broke as fuck, you suck
You're a fucking joke, if you was really selling coke
Well then what the fuck you stop for, dummy?
If you slew some crack,
You'd make a lot more money than you do from rap
You'll never have no security, you'll never be famous
You'll never know what it's like to be rich, life's a bitch, ain't it,
Raymond? Here, let me me break this shit down in layman's
Terms for you just to make sure
That you can understand this and Canibus ain't using
Too many complicated fucking words for you
Here, let me slow it down for you so that you can understand if I say it slower:
Let it go, dawg, it's over.

I don't wanna be like this
I don't really wanna hurt no feelings
But I'm only being real when I say
Nobody wants to hear this grandfather rap
And old men have heart attacks
And I don't wanna be responsible for that
So put the mic down and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity

(Eminem talking)
Haha, talkin' about I have muthafuckas calling your crib
Bitch, you ain't even got a fucking crib
You don't even got a fucking phone, you fucking punk
Threatening to shut me down at your little fucking Source magazine if I come back at you and attack you
Bitch, you attacked me first, take it like a man and shut the fuck up
Fuck you little magazine to, I don't need your little fucking magazine
I got XXL's number anyways,
And y'all cant stand it cause they gettin bigger than y'all
Oh, and by the way how'd I look at the VMA's?
When you was watchin' me, from what ever fuckin TV you was watching me from
In Boston, the mean streets of Boston
Fucking sissy
And you gotta stand up you mutha fucka
Suck my mutha fucking dick
Oh, and for those that don't know
Don't get it twisted, y'all
The Source has a white owner!

Trivia:

This song is a diss of Ray Benzino

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