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Drips

Eminem

Obie
Yo, I'm sick
Damn
You straight, dog?

That's why I ain't got no time
For these games and stupid tricks
Or these bitches on my dick
That's how dudes be getting sick
That's how dicks be getting drips
Falling victims to this shit
From these bitches on our dicks
Fucking chickens with no ribs
That's why I ain't got no time

Yo, I woke up fucked up off the liquor I drunk
I had a bag of the skunk won in last night's tunk
Pussy residue was on my penis
Denise from the cleaners, fucked me good, you should've seen this

Big booty bitch, switch unbearable
French roll styling, body like a stallion
Sizing up the figure while my shit's getting bigger
Debating on a fuck or do I want to be her nigger

Caressing this bitch, plus I'm checking out them tits
Sipping on that fine shit I ain't used to buying
I gotta hit it from behind, it's mandatory
Like taking hoe's money, but that's another story

For surely, the pussy on toast after we toast
Her clothes fell like Bishop in Juice
The womb beater, clean pussy eater
Inserting my jock in that spot hotter than the hottest block

"Don't stop!" The response I got when I was knocking it
Clock steady ticking, kinky finger licking
And can on, semen's at my tip when she moans
I gotta slow down before I cum soon

And work that nigger like a slave owner
When I dropped off my outfit, she knew I wanted to bone her
She foaming at the lips, the one between them hips
Pubic hair's looking like some sour cream dip

Without the nacho, my dick hit the spot though
Pussy tighter than conditions of us, black folks
We in the final stretch, the last part of sex
I bust a fat ass nut, then I woke up next

Like, what the fuck is going on here, this bitch evaporated
Pussy and all, just picked up and vacated
Now I'm frustrated 'cause my dick was unprotected
and Doctor Wesley telling me I really got that shit

That's why I ain't got no time
For these games and stupid tricks
Or these bitches on my dick
That's how dudes be getting sick
That's how dicks be getting drips
Falling victims to this shit
From these bitches on our dicks
Fucking chickens with no ribs
That's why I ain't got no time

Now I don't wanna hit no woman, but this chick's got it coming
Someone better get this bitch, before she gets kicked in the stomach
And she's pregnant, buts she's egging me on, begging me to throw her
Off the steps of this porch, my only weapon is force

And I don't wanna resort to any violence of any sort
But what's she shoving me for? Doesn't she love me no more?
Wasn't she hugging me four minutes ago at the door?
Man, I'm this close to going toe-to-toe with this whore

What would you do if she was telling you she wants a divorce?
She's having another baby in a month, and it's yours
And you find out it isn't, 'cause this bitch has been visiting someone else
And sucking his dick, and kissing you on the lips when you get back

To Michigan, now the plot is thickening worse
'Cause you feel like you've been sticking your fucking dick in a hearse
So you paranoid at every little cold that you get
Ever since they told you this shit, you've been holding your dick

So you go to the clinic, sweating every minute you in it
Then the doctor comes out looking like Dennis, the Menace
And it's obvious to everyone in the lobby it's AIDS
He ain't even gotta call you in his office to say it

So you jet back home, 'cause you gon' get that hoe
When you see her, you gon' bend her fucking neck back, yo
'Cause you love her, you never would expect that blow
Obie told you the scoop, how could she stoop that low?

Jesus, I don't believe this, bitch works at the cleaners
Bringing me home diseases, swinging from Obie's penis
She's so deceiving, shit this hoe's a genius
She g'd us

That's why I ain't got no time
For these games and stupid tricks
Or these bitches on my dick
That's how dudes be getting sick
That's how dicks be getting drips
Falling victims to this shit
From these bitches on our dicks
Fucking chickens with no ribs
That's why I ain't got no time

I'm busy
Fuck these Bitches
Fuck'em all, get money
Shady Records, Obie Trice
Eminem, motherfucker
New millennium shit
Yeah
Turn this shit off
Turn this shit the fuck off

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Compuesta por: Jeff Bass / Marshall Mathers / Obie Trice. ¿Los datos están equivocados? Avísanos.


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