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On Fire - Eminem

Album: Recovery

genre: Hip Hop

Ya know?
Critics man,
Critics never got nothin’ nice to say man
You know the one thing I notice about critics man?
Is, critics never ask me how my day went
Well I’m a tell ’em

Yesterday my dog died, I hog tied a ho, tied her in a bow
Said next time you blog up try to spit a flow
You wanna criticize dog try a little mo’
I’m so tired of this I could blow, fire in the hole
I’m fired up so fire up the lighter and the dro’
Better hold on a little tighter here I go
Flows tighter, hot headed as ghost rider
Cold hearted as spider man throwin’ a spider in the snow
So you better get lower than Flo-Rida
Inside a low rida with no tires in the hole
Why am I like this? why is winter cold
Why is it when I talk I’m so biased to the hoes
Listen dog Christmas is off this is as soft as it gets
This isn’t golf this is a blistering assault
Those are your wounds this is the salt
So get lost
Shit dissin’ me is just like pissin’ off the wizard of oz
Wrap a lizard in gauze beat you in the jaws with it
Grab the scissors and saws and
Cut out your livers gizzards and balls
Throw you in the middle of the ocean in the blizzard with jaws
So sip piss like sizzurp through a straw
Then describe how it tasted like dessert to us all
Got the gall to make Chris piss in his draws
Ticklin’ him go to his grave, skip him and visit his dog

You on fire
That’s how ya know your on a roll
Cause when you hot its like your burnin’ up everyone else’s cold
Your on fire
Man I’m so fuckin’ sick I got ambulances pullin’ me over and shit
Your on fire
Ya need to stop drop and roll
Cause when you say the shit to give the whole hip hop shop the blow
Your on fire, yeah your on fire

Yuh, I just wrote a bullshit hook in between two long ass verses
If you mistook the for a song, look
This ain’t a song its a warnin’ to Brooke, Hogan and David Cook
That the crook just took over so book
Run as fast as you can, stop writin’ and kill it
I’m lightning in a skillet your a fuckin’ flash in a pan
I pop up you bitches scatter like hot grease splashin’ a fan
Mister Mathers is the man
Yeah I’m pissed but I would rather take this energy and stash it in a can
Come back and whip your ass with it again
Saliva’s like sulfuric acid in your hand
It’ll eat through anything metal, the ass of iron man
Turn him into plastic so for you to thinkin that you can stand
A fuckin’ chance is asinine
Yeah ask Denaun man
Hit a blind man with a coloring book
And told him color inside the lines or get hit widda fine crayon
Fuck it I ain’t playin’
Pull up in a van and hop out at a homeless man holdin’ a sign sayin’
Vietnam vet, I’m out my fuckin’ mind man
Kick over the can beat his ass and leave him 9 grand
So if I seem a little mean to you, this ain’t savage you ain’t never seen the brute
You wanna get graphic we can go the scenic route
You couldn’t make a bulimic puke on a piece of fuckin’ corn and peanut, boo
Sayin’ you sick quit playin’ you prick don’t nobody care
Then why the fuck am I yellin’ at air
I ain’t even talkin’ to no one cause ain’t nobody there
Nobody will fuckin’ test me cause these hos wont even dare
I’m wastin’ punchlines but I got so many to spare
I just thought of another one that might go here
Naw don’t waste it save it psycho yeah
Plus you gotta rewrite those lines that you said about Micheal’s hair

Photo credit: Discogs

Lyrics added by Marse

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Recovery Sarah P. album lyrics
"On Fire" is the third track from Eminem's "Recovery" album.
Song details
  • Publishing: Aftermath, Shady, Interscope
  • Co-Production: Mr. Porter
  • Recording: Mike Strange & Alex Merzin
  • Mixing: Eminem & Mike Strange
  • Composition: Ric , Lou & Carlos Wilson, Mr. Porter, Eminem
  • Vocals: Eminem
  • Release Date: 21 June 2010
The song is written by