Things Get Worse (Ft. Eminem) – B.o.B – letras

There’s no need to say shit, you already knowThe question is just how far will this go?How far will he take it?And when will he stop?Shady man, I done told you once homie to ease upBut you just won’t listen will ya? Nah, I guess notYou just can’t can ya? Man, I can’t stand yaYou’re rotten, what you plottin’ for us?Man, when are you gonna let up?I guess things are gonna get much worse ‘fore they get betterHoly Toledo, it’s Angelina Jolie, amigoShe told me « Yo, Shady just hand your penis to me, I’ll deep throat, « And Brad if you try to stand between us then we’re gonna see, broWho was a fantasy, I don’t mean to damage your egoYou faggots wanna ‘rassle?I shove a fucking jar of Vaseline up inside your assholeAnd rope it shut with a lassoCouple of crushed Lexapro broken up with the capsule or PaxilJust in case I ain’t dope enough with the raps, thoughCoke is cut with tobacco, smoke it up, then go wackoThis is what happens when you mix a coconut with TabascoShady let go, the ho has been choked enough, let her ass goNot till Jessica Simpson lets go of the tuna casseroleI used to love her hooters now Carmen Elektra’s cuterStrap an extension cord to her arm and electrocute herI’m off my fucking meds, but I’m on an electric scooterI might just scoot by and shoot my mom in the neck with rugersSpit in Jason’s face while I vomit on Freddy KruegarThey can’t even get Jeffrey Dahmer to pet the cougarNow I’m gone get the rectal thermometer, get the lubraCation and get the patient some Darvocet to chew causeThere’s no need to say shit you already knowThe question is just how far will this goHow far will he take it?And when will he stop?B. o. B I done told you once homie to easy up, jeezThere’s no need to say shit you already knowThe question is just how far will this goCause I will never lay downAnd I will never let upI guess things are gonna get much worse ‘fore they get betterWith the soul of a ShamanI’ll eat a beat then vomitLike a bulimic woman with an uneasy stomachI pass by people on the street they seem like sheep and zombiesStiffer than a therapeutic pair of jeans you run inSo can you hear me comingEminem this beat is absolutely disgustingIt’s probably got diseases on itI’m just being honest, I can see the commentsI can see the evolution as we creep up on itI put that music in your veins like a needle junkieShit I just do this for the haters, I don’t need the moneyI’m diarrhea on the track so it needs plungingSomebody please tell these girls to release my undiesNobody really understands my languageI find it complicated just to hold a conversationBut still I got a whole lot of patienceSittin’ back watching Earth from my Space stationOh my gosh I put Natasha Bedingfield in a washerWatch it go from rinse to spin cycleIt’s like I got ya hypnotized and I forgot yaMy God, ya psychologically fuckedMichael would like an apology, what?Tell that psycho to stick a Tyco truck and a white tricycle up his buttAnd glue the seat of bicycle to his nutsI’m as cold as a muthafucking icicle i’m a nutI ain’t nuttin’ nice, man I like to pull knives and I like to cutThe poster addict for post traumatic stressI guess this is the most dramatic I’ve been in a whileThis is the closest that it’s come to the Marshall MathersI can hear him start to gatherI don’t paint the portrait of the picture perfect Partridge familyThis ain’t your orphan Annie, no this is more uncannyKick down Dakota Fanning’s front door while the whore is tanning(« He can’t say whore ») , of course he can, man he just saw her fannyThen murdered her while he danced around the room and wore her panties