Eminem - Taking My Ball

Yo
Dre, man
Make my vocals sound sexy (woo)
Come on, man, come on, man
Okay

It feels so wrong 'cause it feels so right
But it's alright, it's okay with me
I'll do my steps all by myself
I don't need nobody to play with me
But if you just give me a chance
I can put you in a trance the way I dance
But don't nobody wanna play with me
So I'm takin' my ball and goin' home, home

I'm that guy, man
Shove a diamond up my hind end
And crush it with my butt muscles while I cut vocals
Slut poke holes in ya shirt, jump in mud puddles
While I stomp mudholes in ya ass, girl
Now let's cuddle
Blood curdlin', you're gurglin' on your blood, what'll
I do for my next trick, I'm feelin' wonderful
I think I might just do somethin' a little less subtle
Shove a fuckin' Tonka truck up a little kid's butthole (oh)
Feel the wrath of a psychopath slash ambassador of the Valentine's Day Massacre slash assassin
I slash her in the ass with a icicle
And leave her layin' a blood bath
While I put a catheter in and jump in the bath with her
In my Spider-Man mask, man
Just imagine the fun I can have with a strap on
Stick it up Kim Kardashian's ass and make the bitch run a triathlon
Are those pistachios? Damn, I'd like to have some
Layin' on the patio, man, rollin' a fat one
Shady, drop the magic marker, put the cap on
Goddamn, man, are you that much of an asshole?

It feels so wrong 'cause it feels so right
But it's alright, it's okay with me
I'll do my steps all by myself
I don't need nobody to play with me
But if you just give me a chance
I can put you in a trance the way I dance
But don't nobody wanna play with me
So I'm takin' my ball and goin' home, home

I'm like Houdini
Tuck my teenie-eenie-weenie between each
One of my thighs and make it disappear like a genie
Make the shit disappear like Tara Reid in a bikini (oh)
Believe me homie, you don't know the meanin' of a meanie
They call me the fruit loop from Jupiter
I'm tryin' to maneuver the hoover up in your poop shoot
Don't move or ya might get it stuck so fuckin' far in your uvula
You ain't gonna know what he was tryna do to ya gluteus
Totally tubular, sniffin' glue through a tube in the studio
Now who do ya think is more fruitier?
Wiener smothered in peanut butter puttin' on a tube of ya eye shadow
And man, it look nice, you should have seen it, mother
I think I'll put a piece of art on my Visa card
Then I'll go beat Mischa Barton with a Cuisinart
Then mosy on over to Rosie O'Donnell's
With McDonald's, jump on her lap and watch the Sopranos

It feels so wrong 'cause it feels so right
But it's alright, it's okay with me
I'll do my steps all by myself
I don't need nobody to play with me
But if you just give me a chance
I can put you in a trance the way I dance
But don't nobody wanna play with me
So I'm takin' my ball and goin' home, home

Shady, what are you doin' chewin' on a human?
Grab an aluminum bat, hit Heidi Klum in the back, boom
And assumin' the fact that dude's in the backroom
Usin' the bathroom vacuum and a raccoon
Skewin' a rat or cat, screwin' a baboon
You shouldn't ask what is he doin' with that broom
You should be glad he ain't leave you full of stab wounds
You in a trance, I'm back doin' my dance, ooh
But they're afraid I might get Sarah Palin by the hair
And make her wear a bathin' suit and take her parasailin'
Shady, why do you gotta pick on the lady for?
Why you make her read eighty-four bedtime stories to you in baby talk?
'Cause I'm scared, there's monster's under my bed
Kellie Pickler hid my juice box under my bassinet
No wonder my ass is wet my diaper needs to be changed
You like graffiti, dyke? Well, I can pee-pee and write your name

It feels so wrong 'cause it feels so right
But it's alright, it's okay with me
I'll do my steps all by myself
I don't need nobody to play with me
But if you just give me a chance
I can put you in a trance the way I dance
But don't nobody wanna play with me
So I'm takin' my ball and goin' home, home

Fine, nobody wants to play with me?
Fuck you then, bitch
Guys are always mean to me anyways
All you ever do is rub gum in my hair and stuff
Guys are gonna make me, make me sad, I'm sad
I'm gonna cry, I'm cryin'
I'm goin' to tell my mom, Mom!

Written by:
Trevor Anthony Lawrence, Dawaun W. Parker, Andre Romell Young, Mark Christopher Batson, Marshal B. III Mathers

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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