Eminem - My Syllables

[Intro: Eminem]

It is not about lyrics anymore

It’s about a hot beat and a catchy hook

[Verse 1: Eminem]

If we gotta dumb down our style and A-B-C it

Then so be it, ‘cause nowadays, these kids just

Don’t give a shit 'bout lyrics

All they wanna hear is a beat, and that's it

Long as they can go to the club and get blitzed

Pick up some chicks and get some digits

And the DJ's playing them hits

"Oh, this my jam! This my shit!

We don't know a word to a verse, all we know is the chorus

‘Cause the chorus repeats the same four words for us

And the song's ginormous, the whole formula’s switched

‘Cause we don’t know anymore what are hits"

Is it the beat? Is it the rap?

Is it a finger snap or the same 808 clap?

And how do we adapt and get TRL votes

When thirteen-year-olds control the remotes?

And Ashlee's got a brand new nose

We gotta put some new em-pha-sis on our syl-la-la-bles

[Verse 2: JAY-Z]

If the emphasis on the compact disc

Is in the beat, then I’m gon' feature Em and get rich

And let Dre mix the shit and drive off in the Range Ro'

‘Cause everywhere I go they love the "bling-bling" flow

Bang-bang, look at the way my chain glow

The ring on my fing’ cost your man a lot of dough (Oh)

The fuck am I bustin' my brain fo'?

It's just the way the game go and, oh, it takes two to tango

You call this a lame flow? You bought the shit

I guess you to blame, too, I just found an angle (Hahaha)

No more reality flow

I’m tryna time my album dropping with a reality show

Cock the MAC-11 in front of Hot 97

And call my publicist, tell her we impressed heaven (Haha)

No one gives a shit except

Some kids that just got into sex on the Internet

So you want the chatroom or the house in Malibu?

Em, your emphasis is on the wrong syl-la-la-ble

[Verse 3: Dr. Dre & Eminem]

They said thirty's the new twenty, funny

Must mean forty's the new thirty, interesting

'Cause ever since then, it's been, in a sense, an extension

For veteran rappers that are better than half of

The shit coming out right now, it's all trash

The torch is gonna burn out before it gets passed

JAY said it’s his last, then 50 and Em

Then what? Detox drops, what do we got then?

So now our whole camps is running around

Scrambling over what to do

Gambling every time we put a record out

Just lookin' for that hook (Wait, Dre, look!)

[Hook: Eminem]

Shorty, I love you

And you love me too

We were meant to be

‘Cause, shorty, you love me

And I love you too

And I promise I’ll be true to you

[Verse 4: 50 Cent]

Go shawty, it's your birthday (Woo)

You made it just in time to hear my wordplay

It's the kid that flip flows who used to flip O's

And run G for days, you should see how I get hoes

I'm international, I get my dick licked 'round the globe

I'm sick right into shows, ridin' on lolos (Yeah)

Puffin' on coco, my bitch in Manolos

Don’t fuck with the dodos, that's slang for dumb hoes (Oh)

I'm playin', I ain't got time to joke, joke

You fuck around, you could get your ass smoked, loc

It's not a game, me, B, I ain't playin', beat behind me playin'

So you don't hear anyway, you don’t hear what I’m sayin'

Me fin-nini-na, fee-fi-fididee-yay

Just give me my check and I’ll be on my way

Sunny, bunny, money and funny

You ain't even listening, and I just took your money (Ha)

[Verse 5: Stat Quo]

There once was a time everywhere you turned ('Where you turned)

Shady-Aftermath was all you heard

But they say 50 sang too much, and Em got soft (Got soft)

And they say Dre just fell the fuck off (Woo!)

Well, fuck the fuck-offs! All y'all eat salt

Be mad, we back, fresh up outta the vault

Oh! New syl-la-la-bles, eat ball, you fuck-offs

Your house, your bitch, I'm getting sucked off

East, South, Midwest, even up North

Falling victim to wax, spitting, bring out the white chalk

All for the gingerbread, we get it and get lost

Catch me if you can, I’m runnin' past while y'all walk

[Verse 6: Cashis]

Shady made me for bringin' it back

'Fore the history of rap is gone with a snap

A snare and a clap, what happened to just spittin'

'Bout livin' in the motherfuckin' city you at?

In the grimiest condition, I breathe in drama

King Mathers and Cash—me—that's free karma

I'm everything, anything you can never be

It's a hidden rhyme of the month deep in the beef

I speak with a piece, no peace on my mind

I repeat every evil deed done of mine (Yeah)

No rest contest, contract to sign

By blood, I'm in this squad for life

Hear about out my windpipes, and I just chime

I'm the reason you guys won't say that line

I’m crazy, renegade like Em and Jay-Z

I’m Rosemary’s baby, I want you to hate me

[Hook: Eminem]

Shorty, I love you

And you love me too

We were meant to be

‘Cause, shorty, you love me

And I love you too

And I promise I’ll be true to you

[Outro: Eminem]

It is not about lyrics anymore

It is not about lyrics anymore

It's about a hot beat, a hot beat

It's about a hot beat, a hot beat

A hot-hot-hot beat and a catchy hook

A hot-hot-hot beat and a catchy hook

Nobody gives a damn about them syllables

Syl-la-la-bles, whatever they are

I don't care if you gotta rhyme "schmoe," "mo," "Joe," "toe," and "glow"

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some goddamn records!

Now, get out there and sell some