Under The Influence - Eminem

Chem-le-le-le-le-le-le-le, le-le, le-le
Chem-ne-le-eh-ne-nuf-nu-nef, ne-nish, le-le… translation
So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!

Two pills I pop, ’til my pupils swell up like two pennies
I’m Clint Eastwood in his mid-twenties
A young ass man with a trash can, strapped to the back
Of his ass so the rats can’t chew through his last pants
I’m like a mummy at night, fightin’ with bright lightnin’
Frightened with five little white Vicodin pills bitin’ him
I’m like a fuckin’ wasp in the hospital, lost
Stingin’ the fuck outta everything I come across in the halls
I light a candle and place it up on the mantle
Grab a knife at the blade and stab you with the fucking handle
So when you find yourself wrapped up in the blinds, hurtin’
(Bitch, it’s too late)
‘Cause once you’re hung from the drapes, it’s curtains

I’m an instigator, .380 slug penetrator
Degrading, creating murders to kill haters
Accused for every crime known through the equator
They knew I did it for having blood on my ‘gators
My weed’ll hit your chest like a double barrel gauge, and
I’m a black grenade that’ll blow up in your face
With a fifth in me, when I guzzle Remy I do shit on purpose
You never hear me say forgive me
I’m snatchin every penny, it gotta be that way, nigga, face it
That weed I sold to you, Brigade laced it
You hiding, I make the president get a facelift
Niggas just afraid, handin’ me they bracelets
Chillin’ in the lab wasted, I’m the type
That’ll drink Kahlua and gin, throw up on the mic
Your life is ruined, you get socked right on sight
And even at the Million Man March, we gon’ fight

So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!
‘Cause I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!

I’m a compulsive liar, setting my preacher on fire
Slashing your tires, flying down Fenkell and Meyers
Plates expired, soon as I’m hired, I’m fired
Jacking my dick off in a bed of barbed wire
(Hey, is Bizarre performing?) Bitch, didn’t you read the flyer?
Special invited guest will be Richard Pryor
(Aren’t you a male dancer?) Naw, bitch, I’m retired
Fucking your bitch in the ass with a tire iron
I’m ripped, I’m on an acid trip
My DJ’s in a coma for letting the record skip
Letting the record skip—letting the record skip (Damn!)
I’m fucking anything when I’m snortin’
It’s gonna cost 300 dollars to get my pitbull an abortion
Some bitch asked for my autograph
I called her a whore, spit beer in her face and laughed
I drop bombs like I was in Vietnam
All bitches is hoes, even my stinkin’ ass mom

Ayo, flashback, two feets, two deep up in that ass crack
Weed laced with somethin’ – nigga, pass that!
In Amsterdam we only hang out with hash rats
At a Stop the Violence rally, I blast gats
BMI on publishing, get your ASCAP-ped
The Kuniva, divide up your cash stack
Run your motherfuckin’ pockets, ASAP
I don’t need a platinum chain, bitch, I snatch Shaq’s
Born loser, half thief and half black
Bring your boys and your guns and get laughed at
Bitch smacker, rich rappers get they Jag jacked
And found chopped up in a trash bag

We strangling rappers until the point they can’t yell
‘Cause they crew is full of fags and sweeter than bake sales
Reckless, come from behind and snatch your necklace
Gruesome, and causing more violence than nine hoodlums
I grapple your Adam’s apple until it crackle
Run right past you, turn around, grab you and stab you
Get executed, ‘cause I’m a Luni, I got a Yukmouth
And it’s polluted, I cock it back then shoot it
I love snatchin’ up players, thugs and young ballers
Shoot up the household, even the young toddlers
Brigade barricade to bring the noise
While the bullets break your bones up like Christmas toys
If I go solo, I’m doing a song with Bolo
A big Chinese nigga, screaming, “Kuniva, yo, yo!”
I leave ya face leakin’, run up in church and smack the preacher while he’s preachin’, take a swing at the deacon

I used to tell cats I sold weed and weight
I was straight ’til I got caught selling ’em shake
I’m ignorant, with the intent to snatch your rent
I got kicked out of summer camp for having sex in my tent
With the superintendent’s daughter, my brain’s out of order
I’ve been a Kon Artis since I was swimmin’ in water
In cahoots with this nigga named Carlisle Von
Who got fired from UPS for tryin’ to send you a bomb
(Special delivery) I sign to a local label for fun
Say I got cancer, get dropped, take the advancement and run
Drive-by you in the rain while you carry your son
Call your house and hang up on you for not giving me none
Born straight up out a pussy but a son of a gun
Got a reputation for having niggas runnin’ they funds
Used to be the type of nigga that was folding some ones
‘Til I met your fat mama, now I’m rolling in dough

Chem-le-le-le-le-le-le-le, le-le, le-le
Chem-ne-le-eh-ne-nuf-nu-nef, ne-nish, le-le.. translation
So you can suck my dick if you don’t like, my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick

Ha ha! Suck my mothafuckin’ dick!
D-12… Dirty-mothafuckin’-Dozen
Nasty like a stank slut bitch with thirty fuckin’ husbands
Bizarre Kid, Swifty McVay, the Kon Artis
The Kuniva, Dirty Harry and Slim Shady

Photo credit: Discogs

Lyrics added by Marse