Artist: Eminem
Album: Eminem Show
Song: Drips
Prelude
Obie... Yo... Im sick / Damn... You straight dog?
Chorus
That's why I ain't got no time. For these games and stupid
tricks/Or these b*tches on my d*ck. That's how dudes be getting
sick/ That's how d*cks be getting drips. Falling victims to this
sh*t/From these b*tches on our d*cks, f*cking chickens with no ribs/That's
why I ain't got no time...
Verse 1 (Obie Trice)
Yo, I woke up f*cked up off the liquor I drunk. I had a bag of the
skunk won in last nights Tunk/pussy residue was on my penis, Denise
from the cleaners, f*cked me good, you shoulda seen this/big booty
b*tch, switch unbearable, french roll stylin', body like a stallion/Sizin
up the figure while my sh*t's getting bigger, debatin' on a f*ck
or do I want to be her nigga/Caressin'this b*tch, plus I'm checking
out them tits, sippin' on that fine sh*t I ain't used to buyin'/I
gotta hit it from behind, its mandatory, like takin' 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, insertin' my jock in that spot hotter than the hottest
block/ Don't Stop! The response I got when I was knockin' it, clock
steady tickin', kinky finger lickin'/and can on, semen's at my tip
when she moans. I gotta slow down before I cum soon/ and work that
nigga like a slave owner. When I dropped off my outfit, she knew
I wanted to bone her/She foamin' at the lips, the one between them
hips, pubic hairs lookin' like some sour cream dip/without the nacho,
my d*ck 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 f*ck is goin' on
here, this b*tch evaporated, pussy and all, just picked up and vacated/Now
I'm frusturated cuz my d*ck was unprotected, and Doctor Wesley tellin
me I really got that sh*t
Chorus
Verse 2 (Eminem)
Now I don't wanna hit no woman, but this chick's got it comin',
someone better get this b*tch, before she gets kicked in the stomach/and
she's pregnant, buts she's eggin' me on, beggin' 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 shovin'
me for?/ Doesn't she love me no more? Wasn't she huggin' me four
minutes ago at the door?/Man, I'm this close to goin' toe-to-toe
with this whore. What would you do if she was tellin' you she wants
a divorce?/She's havin' another baby in a month, and it's yours,
and you find out it isn't cus this b*tch has been visitin' someone
else/and suckin' his d*ck and kissin' you on the lips when you get
back, to Michigan, now the plot is thickenin' worse/cus you feel
like you've been stickin' your f*ckin' d*ck in a hearse/so you paranoid
at every little cold that you get, ever since they told you this
sh*t, you've been holdin' your d*ck/so you go to the clinic, sweatin'
every minute you in it, then the doctor comes out lookin' 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, cus you gon' get that hoe, when you see her, you gon'
bend her f*ckin' neck back, yo/cus 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, b*tch works at the cleaners, bringin'
me home diseases, swingin' from Obie's penis/she's so deceivin',
sh*t this hoe's a genius,she g'd us...
Chorus
I'm Busy
f*ck these b*tches
f*ck'em all, Get Money
Shady Records, Obie Trice
Eminem, muthaf*cka
New millenium sh*t... Yeah
Turn this sh*t off
Turn this sh*t the f*ck off
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