Авторы музыки: Jeff Bass, Eminem
Cleanin Out My Closet
1|-0-5--6--3--3--2-2- Verse 1 Have you ever been hated or discriminated against? I have, I've been protested and demonstrated against. / Picket signs for my wicked rhymes. Look at the times. Sick is the mind of the motha fuckin' kid that's behind / all this commotion. Emotions run deep as ocean's explodin.' Tempers flaring from parents, just blow 'em off and keep goin.' / Not takin' nothin' from no one, give 'em hell long as I'm breathin.' Keep kickin' ass in the mornin,' an' takin' names in the evening. / Leavem with a taste as sour as vinegar in they mouth. See, they can trigger me but they never figure me out. / Look at me now, I bet ya probably sick of me now. Ain't you mama, I'ma make you look so ridiculous now. Chorus 2X I'm sorry, Mama. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you cry, but tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet. Verse 2 I got some skeletons in my closet and I don't know if no one knows it. So before they thrown me inside my coffin and close it, / I'ma expose it. I'll take you back to 73 before I ever had a multi-platinum sellin' CD. / I was a baby, maybe I was just a couple of months. My faggot father must have had his panties up in a bunch, / cuz he split. I wonder if he even kissed me goodbye. No, I don't on second thought, I just fuckin' wished he would die. / I look at Hailie and I couldn't picture leavin' her side. Even if I hated Kim, I grit my teeth and I'd try / to make it work with her at least for Hailie's sake. I maybe made some mistakes but I'm only human. But I'm man enough to face them today. / What I did was stupid, no doubt it was dumb, but the smartest shit I did was take them bullets out of that gun. / Cuz id'a killed 'em, shit I would have shot Kim an' him both. It's my life, I'd like to welcome y'all to The Eminem Show. Chorus 2X Verse 3 Now I would never dis my own mama just to get recognition. Take a second to listen for you think this record is dissin,' / But put yourself in my position. Just try to envision witnessin' your Mama poppin' prescription pills in the kitchen, / bitchin' that someone's always goin' throuh her purse and shits missin.' Going through public housing systems, victim of Munchausen's syndrome. My whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't 'til I grew up, now I blew up. It makes you sick to ya stomach, / doesn't it? Wasn't it the reason you made that CD for me, Ma? So you could try to justify the way you treated me, Ma? / But guess what, yer gettin' older now and it's cold when your lonely. An' Nathan's getting' up so quick, he's gonna know that your phoney. / And Hailie's getting' so big now, you should see her, she's beautiful. But you'll never see her, she won't even be at your funeral. / See what hurts me the most is you won't admit you was wrong. Bitch, do ya song. Keep tellin' yourself that you was a mom. / But how dare you try to take what you didn't help me to get. You selfish bitch, I hope you fuckin' burn in hell for this shit. / Remember when Ronnie died and you said you wished it was me? Well, guess what, I am dead. Dead to you as can be.