Rhyme Or Reason Lyrics

[Verse 1]Yeah, Yeah... Yeah, Yeah, Yeah(What's your name?) Marshall(Who's your daddy?) I don't have oneMy mother reproduced like a komodo dragonAnd had me on the back of a motorcycleThen crashed in the side of loco-motive with rap, I'm locoIt's like handing a psycho a loaded handgunMichelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrumAbout to explode all over the canvasBack with the Yoda of rap in a spasm(Your music usually has them)(But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn'tFollow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan)A Jedi in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertainingBut docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain andProbably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting(puke) Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talkFull of such blind rage I need a seeing eye dogCan't even find the page, I was writing this rhyme on, (oh..)Its on a rampage, couldn't see what I wrote I write small(It says) Ever since I drove a 79 Lincoln with white wallsHad a fire in my heart, and a dire desire to aspire, to DIE HARDSo as long as I'm on the clock punching this time cardHip hop ain't dying on my watch[Hook]But sometimes, when I'm sleeping, she comes to me in my dreamsIs she taken? Is she mine? Don't got, I don't care, don't have two shits to giveLet me take you by the hand, to promise land, and threaten everyoneCause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing[Bridge]Nah, (Whats your name?) Marshall(Who's your daddy?) I don't know him, but I wonder(Is he rich like me?) Haha(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)NO[Verse 2]If he had, he wouldn't have ended up in these rhymes on my padI wouldn't be so mad, my attitude wouldn't be so bad, yeah, dadI'm The epitome and the prime example of what happensWhen the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, andMakes you want to get up and start dancingEven if it is Charles Manson who just happens, To be rappingBlue lights flashing, laughing all the way to the bankLamping in my K-Mart mansion, I'm in the style departmentWith a pile in my car, ripping the aisle apartWith great power comes absolutely no responsiblity, for contentCompletely, despondent, and condescendingThe king of nonsense and controversy is on, aBeat killing spree, your honor, I must, pleaGuilty, cause I sparked a, RevolutionRebel without a cause, who caused the evolution of rapTo take it to the next level, boost itBut several rebuked it, and whoever produced it(Hip hop is the devil's music) Is that me? It belongs to me?Cuz I just happen to be, a white honky devil with two hornsThat don't honk but every time I speak you, hear a beep?But lyrically I never hear a peep, not even a whisperRappers better stay clear of me, bitchCause its theā€¦[Hook][Bridge](Whats your name?) Shady(Who's your daddy?) I don't give a f*ck, but I wonder(Is he rich like me?) Doubt it, ha(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)[Verse 3]So yeah dad let's walkLet's have us a father and son talkBut i bet we probably wouldn't get one blockWithout me knocking your block offThis is all your faultMaybe that's why I'm always so bananasI appeal to all those walks of likeWhoever had strifeMaybe that's what dad and son talks are likeCause I related to the struggles of [young] AmericaWhen their f*cking parents were unaware of their troublesNow they're ripping out their f*cking hair againIt's a stare ruckle, I chuckleCause everybody bloodies their bare knucklesYeah, uh oh, better beware knuckleheadsThe sound of my hustle says don't knockThe doors broken it won't lockIt might just fly open, get cold cockedYou critics come pay me a visitMisery loves company, please stay a minuteKryptonite to a hypocriteZip your lip if you dish it but can't take itToo busy getting stoned in your glass houseTo kick rocks, and you wonder why I lash outMister Mathers as advertised on the flyersSpread the word cause I'm promoting my passion till I'm passed outA completely brain dead RainmanDoing a bankhead in a restraint chairSo bitch, if you shoot me a look it better be a blank stareOr get shanked in the pancreas, I'm angrier thanAll 8 of the reindeer put together with Chief KeefCause I hate every f*cking thing, yeahEven this rhyme bitch, and quit tryna lookFor a f*cking reason for it that ain't thereBut I still am a CRIMINALTen year old degenerate grabbing on my GENITALSThe last Mathers LP that went diamondThis time I'm predicting this one will go EMERALDWhen will the madness end, how can it whenThere's no method the pad and penThe only message that I have to say is:Dad, I'm back at it againBitch

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Songwriter(s): Marshall B. Iii Mathers, Rod Argent
Record Label(s): 2013 Aftermath Records
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