• Look, I was gonna go easy on you and not to hurt your feelings
    But I'm only going to get this one chance
    Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)
    Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what
    If that means, what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble,
    And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances
    You were just what the doctor ordered
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot
    But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes
    I got a laptop in my back pocket
    My pen'll go off when I half-cock it
    Got a fat knot from that rap profit
    Made a living and a killing off it
    Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office
    With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack
    I'm an MC still as honest
    But as rude and indecent as all hell syllables, killaholic (Kill 'em all with)
    This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip hop
    You don't really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappidy brat
    Packing a Mac in the back of the Ac, backpack rap crap, yep, yackidy-yac
    And at the exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing
    That I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table
    Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half
    Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact
    How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
    Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a Maxipad
    It's actually disastrously bad
    For the wack while I'm masterfully constructing this masterpiece as
    I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?
    Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard
    Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got
    Well, to be truthful the blueprint's simply rage and youthful exuberance
    Everybody loves to root for a nuisance
    Hit the earth like an asteroid, did nothing but shoot for the moon since
    MC's get taken to school with this music
    'Cause I use it as a vehicle to bus the rhyme
    Now I lead a new school full of students
    Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac N-
    -W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim
    Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position
    To meet Run DMC and induct them into the motherfuckin' Rock n'
    Roll Hall of Fame
    Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames
    Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame
    On the wall of shame
    You fags think it's all a game 'til I walk a flock of flames
    Off of planking, tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?
    Little gay looking boy
    So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy
    You witnessing a mass occur
    Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy
    Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say looking boy
    You get a thumbs up, pat on the back
    And a "way to go" from your label everyday looking boy
    Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?
    I got a "hell yeah" from Dre looking boy
    I'mma work for everything I have
    Never ask nobody for shit, get outta my face looking boy
    Basically boy you're never gonna be capable
    To keep up with the same pace looking boy
    'Cause I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
    The way I'm racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar
    Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God
    Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard
    So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent
    Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm totin'
    And I should not be woken
    I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating
    But I got your mom deep throating
    I'm out my Ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle
    I'm a doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil
    It's me, my honesty's brutal
    But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though
    For good at least once in a while
    So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle
    Enough rhymes to maybe to try and help get some people through tough times
    But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case 'cause even you unsigned
    Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime
    I know there was a time where once I
    Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind
    So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine
    Appeal with the skin color of mine
    You get too big and here they come trying to
    Censor you like that one line I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP
    One when I tried to say "I'll take seven kids from Columbine
    Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"
    See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm
    Morphin' into an immortal coming through the portal
    You're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though
    And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for
    You're pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows
    You write normal, fuck being normal
    And I just bought a new Raygun from the future
    Just to come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad
    'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Maywhether's pad
    Singin' to a man while they played piano
    Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel
    So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day
    "Hey, Fab, I'mma kill you"
    Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, (JJ Fad)
    Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I'm a human
    What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman
    Innovative and I'm made of rubber
    So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you
    I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating
    How to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating
    Never fading, and I know that the haters are forever waiting
    For the day that they can say I fell off, they'd be celebrating
    'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated
    I make elevating music, you make elevator music
    Oh, he's too mainstream
    Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it
    It's not hip hop, it's pop, 'cause I found a hella way to fuse it
    With rock, shock rap with Doc
    Throw on Lose Yourself and make 'em lose it
    I don't know how to make songs like that
    I don't know what words to use
    Let me know when it occurs to you
    While I'm ripping any one of these verses diverse as you
    It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you
    How many verses I gotta murder to
    Prove that if you were half as nice, your songs you can sacrifice virgins too uh!
    School flunkie, pill junky
    But look at the accolades the skills brung me
    Full of myself, but still hungry
    I bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind to
    And I'm a million leagues above you, ill when I speak in tongues
    But it's still tongue in cheek, fuck you
    I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I'm asleep in the front seat
    Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky
    But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling
    Angels fight with devils and, here's what they want from me
    They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate
    But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have
    Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation
    And understand the discrimination
    But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then
    But if I can't batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?
    Don't mistake it for Satan
    It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas
    And take a vacation to trip a broad
    And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard
    Be a king? Think not, why be a king when you can be a God?
  • “ either peace or happiness,
    let it enfold you

    when I was a young man
    I felt these things were
    dumb, unsophisticated.
    I had bad blood, a twisted
    mind, a precarious
    upbringing.

    I was hard as granite, I
    leered at the
    sun.
    I trusted no man and
    especially no
    woman.

    I was living a hell in
    small rooms, I broke
    things, smashed things,
    walked through glass,
    cursed.
    I challenged everything,
    was continually being
    evicted, jailed,in and
    out of fights, in and out
    of my mind.
    women were something
    to screw and rail
    at, I had no male
    friends,

    I changed jobs and
    cities, I hated holidays,
    babies, history,
    newspapers, museums,
    grandmothers,
    marriage, movies,
    spiders, garbagemen,
    english accents, spain,
    france, italy, walnuts and
    the color
    orange.
    algebra angered me,
    opera sickened me,
    charlie chaplin was a
    fake
    and flowers were for
    pansies.

    peace an happiness to me
    were signs of
    inferiority,
    tenants of the weak
    an
    addled
    mind.

    but as I went on with
    my alley fights,
    my suicidal years,
    my passage through
    any number of
    women-it gradually
    began to occur to
    me
    that I wasn't different

    from the
    others, I was the same,

    they were all fulsome
    with hatred,
    glossed over with petty
    grievances,
    the men I fought in
    alleys had hearts of stone.
    everybody was nudging,
    inching, cheating for
    some insignificant
    advantage,
    the lie was the
    weapon and the
    plot was
    empty,
    darkness was the
    dictator.

    cautiously, I allowed
    myself to feel good
    at times.
    I found moments of
    peace in cheap
    rooms
    just staring at the
    knobs of some
    dresser
    or listening to the
    rain in the
    dark.
    the less I needed
    the better I
    felt.

    maybe the other life had worn me
    down.
    I no longer found
    glamour
    in topping somebody
    in conversation.
    or in mounting the
    body of some poor
    drunken female
    whose life had
    slipped away into
    sorrow.

    I could never accept
    life as it was,
    i could never gobble
    down all its
    poisons
    but there were parts,
    tenuous magic parts
    open for the
    asking.

    I re formulated
    I don't know when,
    date, time, all
    that
    but the change
    occurred.
    something in me
    relaxed, smoothed
    out.
    i no longer had to
    prove that I was a
    man,

    I didn't have to prove
    anything.

    I began to see things:
    coffee cups lined up
    behind a counter in a
    cafe.
    or a dog walking along
    a sidewalk.
    or the way the mouse
    on my dresser top
    stopped there
    with its body,
    its ears,
    its nose,
    it was fixed,
    a bit of life
    caught within itself
    and its eyes looked
    at me
    and they were
    beautiful.
    then- it was
    gone.

    I began to feel good,
    I began to feel good
    in the worst situations
    and there were plenty
    of those.
    like say, the boss
    behind his desk,
    he is going to have
    to fire me.

    I've missed too many
    days.
    he is dressed in a
    suit, necktie, glasses,
    he says, "I am going
    to have to let you go"

    "it's all right" I tell
    him.

    He must do what he
    must do, he has a
    wife, a house, children.
    expenses, most probably
    a girlfriend.

    I am sorry for him
    he is caught.

    I walk onto the blazing
    sunshine.
    the whole day is
    mine
    temporally,
    anyhow.

    (the whole world is at the
    throat of the world,
    everybody feels angry,
    short-changed, cheated,
    everybody is despondent,
    disillusioned)

    I welcomed shots of
    peace, tattered shards of
    happiness.

    I embraced that stuff
    like the hottest number,
    like high heels, breasts,
    singing,the
    works.

    (don't get me wrong,
    there is such a thing as cockeyed optimism
    that overlooks all
    basic problems just for
    the sake of
    itself-
    this is a shield and a
    sickness.)

    The knife got near my
    throat again,
    I almost turned on the
    gas
    again
    but when the good
    moments arrived
    again
    I didn't fight them off
    like an alley
    adversary.
    I let them take me,
    i luxuriated in them,
    I bade them welcome
    home.
    I even looked into
    the mirror
    once having thought
    myself to be
    ugly,
    I now liked what
    I saw,almost
    handsome, yes,
    a bit ripped and
    ragged,
    scares, lumps,
    odd turns,
    but all in all,
    not too bad,
    almost handsome,
    better at least than
    some of those movie
    star faces
    like the cheeks of
    a baby's
    butt.

    and finally I discovered
    real feelings of
    others,
    unheralded,
    like lately,
    like this morning,
    as I was leaving,
    for the track,
    i saw my wife in bed,
    just the
    shape of
    her head there
    (not forgetting
    centuries of the living
    and the dead and
    the dying,
    the pyramids,
    Mozart dead
    but his music still
    there in the
    room, weeds growing,
    the earth turning,
    the toteboard waiting for
    me)
    I saw the shape of my
    wife's head,
    she so still,
    I ached for her life,
    just being there
    under the
    covers.

    I kissed her in the,
    forehead,
    got down the stairway,
    got outside,
    got into my marvelous
    car,
    fixed the seatbelt,
    backed out the
    drive.
    feeling warm to
    the fingertips,
    down to my
    foot on the gas
    pedal,
    I entered the world
    once
    more,
    drove down the
    hill
    past the houses
    full and empty
    of
    people,
    I saw the mailman,
    honked,
    he waved
    back
    at me.”
  • In this type of group, the guru is fully invested with paternal powers, and the follower is like the child of this father. All actions and speeches of the guru would aim to reinforce and strengthen this identification by alternating between sanction and gratification. The follower is like a good or a bad son, according to his merits. These groups block the follower’s autonomous ego, and especially his individual impulses. They constantly
    reinforce feelings of guilt.

    The guru is viewed as the holder of the law, and more — he has the authority to punish the bad son or bad daughter who has the audacity to violate the holy regulations that come out of the mouth of the guru. This symbolic projection of the guru makes it possible for the follower to cross the major taboo of our society, that of incest.

    The prestige of the disciple is enhanced by any possible sexual relations with the guru. Thus, the transgression of the taboo is accompanied not by a guilt feeling or of sin but, on the contrary, to the acquisition of a privileged status. The guru has moreover a dimension of knowledge which is conferred upon him by the transposition of his personal myths into the mythology of the group. All the fantasies and delusions thus become testimonies of his knowledge. To the extent that he identifies with the guru, the follower has the illusion of participating in the fullness of the knowledge and power of the guru. He becomes as passionate as the guru when he fills himself with these filial feelings.
  • “Die slowly

    He who becomes the slave of habit,
    who follows the same routes every day,
    who never changes pace,
    who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
    who does not speak and does not experience,
    dies slowly.

    He or she who shuns passion,
    who prefers black on white,
    dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer,
    that turn a yawn into a smile,
    that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
    dies slowly.

    He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
    who is unhappy at work,
    who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
    to thus follow a dream,
    those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,
    die slowly.

    He who does not travel, who does not read,
    who does not listen to music,
    who does not find grace in himself,
    she who does not find grace in herself,
    dies slowly.

    He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
    who does not allow himself to be helped,
    who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
    dies slowly.

    He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
    die slowly.

    Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
    reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

    Only a burning patience will lead
    to the attainment of a splendid happiness.”
  • I had an amazing feeling when I finally held the tape in my hand. I just thought to myself that in the palm of my hand, there was this one tape that had all of these memories and feelings and great joy and sadness. Right there in the palm of my hand. And I thought about how many people have loved those songs. And how many people got through a lot of bad times because of those songs. And how many people enjoyed good times with those songs. And how much those songs really mean. I think it would be great to have written one of those songs. I bet if I wrote one of them, I would be very proud. I hope the people who wrote those songs are happy. I hope that they feel it's enough. I really do because they've made me happy. And I'm only one person.
  • Siz tabii sevklerini sıhhatle duyan bir insansınız. Kendinizi kolayca onlara bırakabiliyorsunuz. Bense öyle değilim içim vehim, zevksizlik ve hasta hesaplarla dolu.
    You are a person with a healthy feelings towards natural urges. You can easily entrust yourself to those urges. As for me, I'm not like that. My inside is overflowing with doubts, bad taste and sickly accounts.
  • Negativity is inside us. We could get rid of them by recognising and understanding them.