Erik Alcock - Almost Famous lyrics

I can almost taste it This sh** makes no sense to me What does it all mean? I can almost taste it I can almost see it [Spoken: Eminem] Can't stop now This might be the last chance I get To be famous [Hook: Liz Rodrigues] You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes I just want to be famous...but Be careful what you wish for [Verse 1: Eminem] I stuck my dick in this game like a rapist They call me Slim Roethlisberger I go berserker than a fed up post office worker I murk her with a Mossberg I'm pissed off get murdered Like someone took a ketchup squirter Squirted a frankfurter For a gangster you sure did sh** your pants When you saw the chainsaw get to waving Like a terrible towel How thangs turn around When his fangs come out Get your brains blown out That's what I call blowing your mind When I come back Like nut on your spine I'm a thumb tack That you slept on son Now here I come screaming "Attack!" Like I just stepped on one Low on the totem til he showed 'em Defiance, giant scrotum He don't owe them b**hes sh** His britches, he out grow'd em He's so out cold he's knocked out at the South Pole And nobody f**s with him Rigor mortis and post mortem He's dying of boredom Take your best rhymes, record 'em Then try to thwart him He'll just take your punch lines and snort em sh** stained drawers You gon f** with a guy who licks the blades of his chainsaws While he dips 'em in P.F. Chang's sauce Game's up, homie, hang it up like some crank calls You think I'm backing down you must be out of your dang skulls [Hook: Liz Rodrigues] You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes [Verse 2: Eminem] I'm back for revenge I lost a battle that ain't happening again I'm at your throat like strep I step, strapped with a pen Metaphors wrote on my hand Some are just stored in my memory Some I wrote on a napkin I do what I have to to win Pulling out all stops, any who touch a mic prior's Not even Austin Powers, how the f** are they Mike Myers? And tell that psycho to pa** the torch To the wacko before I take a sh** in his Jack-O-Lantern And smash it on his porch Now get off my dick Dick's too short of a word for my dick Get off my antidisestablishmentarianism, you prick Don't call me the champ; call me the space shuttle destroyer I just blew up the Challenger, matter fact I need a lawyer I just laced my gloves with enough plaster to make a cast Beat his a** naked and peed in his corner like Verne Troyer Y'all are Eminem backwards, you're Mini Me's See he's in a whole nother weight cla** He's slugs; you're BBs, you're bean-bag bullets You're full of it; you were dissing his CDs Laughed at Infinite, now he's back like someone pissed in his Wheaties No peace treaties, he's turned into a beast His new Slim Shady EP's got the attention of the mighty D.R.E He's almost famous [Hook: Liz Rodrigues] You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes [Verse 3: Eminem] Now there he goes in Dre's studio cupping his balls Screaming the wood off the paneling, cussing the paint off the walls Spewing his hate to these haters, showing no love for these broads He ain't given them sh**, he says he'll pinch a penny so hard He'll leave a bruise on the bronze so dark you can see the mark With the scars, til Abraham Lincoln is screaming out AHH These metaphors and similes ain't similar to them, not at all If they don't like it, they can all get f**ed instead of s**ing him off They can go get a belt or a neck tie, to hang themselves by Like David Carradine they can go f** themselves and just die And eat sh** while they at it He's f**ing had it, he's mad at the whole world So go to hell and build a snowman, girl The bullies become bullied, and pussies get pushed Then they better pull me, take me back to 9th grade to school me Cause I ain't looking back, only forward, this whole spot blowing Who could've known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it And while I'm being poetic let me get it stoic and raise the bar Higher than my opinion of these women's been lowered So bear witness to some biblical sh** There's a cold wind blowing, this world ain't gonna know what hit it He did it, he made it, he's finally famous