Songtext zu 'The King And I (feat. CeeLo Green)' von Eminem

A-doopy-doo-doo-duh

I roll up like the bottom of a toothpaste tube
Blue suede shoes, one missin' a shoe lace to it
Two new chains, you can call me 2 Chainz
Ropes hang like Hussein's noose (woo!)
Yeah, they let the fruitcake loose (yeah)
It goes: one for the trailer park, two for my baby-ma
Three for the tater tots, four if you ate a lot
Five if you came to rock, straight up while I'm shittin' on my comp'
I'm about to use the John like Grey Poupon
Money like a scroll, bitch, my paper long (yeah)
Longer than it takes a blonde to put her makeup on (yeah)
'Cause me and Elvis gelled together like cellmates (hey!)
Yeah, this the Jailhouse, bitch, and I don't give a– (what?)

And I don't give a shit about a thing you say
I just wanna feel like a king today
And if you don't like it you can sit and spin
Middle fingers up (Yeah), we 'bout to do this shit again

Modus operandi, bottle of blond dye (yeah)
Top five since I discovered peroxide (what?)
Yeah, since I got signed, I went from pot pies
To Jack and the Bean–, I'm watchin' my stock rise (woo!)
These little attention seekers, I'm finna treat 'em like diabetics (what?)
Got 'em all on pins and needles, just like Ozempic, meaning
Give these little pricks the finger, and when I stick this thing up
It's higher than Wiz Khalifa, soon as he lit the weed up (huh?)
As I go pickin' speed up, like I was finna re-up (yeah)
Rap is my new Vicodin, Suboxene is how I treat it (get it?)
Still goin' toe-to-toe, I'm still boxing with all my demons (yeah)
But a couple Xanny bars and I'm Danny Gar–, see ya!
Been stuntin' on you from the jump like Evel Knievel
Back in the cut and stackin' chips up like a can of Pringles
Sometimes I feel like Pete Rose, I got so many hit singles (yeah)
Bitch, I barely have any wrinkles, you sleepin' on me like I'm ZzzQuil

So I don't give a shit about a thing you say
I just wanna feel like a king today
And if you don't like it you can sit and spin
Middle fingers up, we 'bout to do this shit again

And it goes: one for the trailer park, two for my baby-ma
Three for the tater tots, four if you ate a lot
Five if you came to rock and you never gave a fuck
Middle fingers up, we 'bout to do this shit again

I stole black music, yeah true
Perhaps used it as a tool to combat school
Kids came back on some bathroom shit
Now I call a hater a bidet (why?)
'Cause they mad that they can't do shit (haha)
And I know I'm such a dick, huh? (Yeah)
And it must be fuckin' with ya (yeah)
To know I up and quit the (what?)
Prescription drugs and liquor (yeah)
And yet my buzz is bigger (wow)
Still rappin' circles around you (yeah)
Like a boa constrictor (break it down)
Now I'm about to explain to you all the parallels
Between Elvis and me, myself
It seem obvious: one, he's pale as me
Second, we both been hailed as kings
He used to rock the Jailhouse, and I used to rock The Shelter
We sell like Velveeta Shells & Cheese (woo! Let's go!)
But y'all miss the meaner me, back when I had felonies
That went over your head because you just fell on knees
You just literally knelt to me, I used to have no self-esteem (yeah)
I used to cry myself to sleep (what?)
Honestly, I need doubters because you motherfuckers (yeah)
Motivate me to make you look stupid
Believers, a little faith is all I seek from you
All I need to do is hear you say the same shit
My father said to me when I was just a week or two
Marshall, I be leavin' you (haha, stupid)
No more Guinness Stout, but my belief in myself
Once again is stout (yeah), so many world records, I'm Guinness'ed out (huh?)
Shit you say goes in and out (oh)
My ear canals, so either my hearing's out

Or I don't give a shit about a thing you say
I just wanna feel like a king today
And if you don't like it you can sit and spin
Middle fingers up, we 'bout to do this shit again