Alfred’s Theme (Explicit)

Lyrics by：M Mathers/L. Resto/C Gounod

Composed by：M Mathers/L. Resto/C Gounod

Before I check the mic

Check check one two

I give it an extra swipe with a Lysol disinfectant wipe

Good evening

Coronavirus in effect tonight

Antiseptics on deck I got every type

Yeah

I throw on my tux then I Yeah give zero f**ks then I

Yeah

Act like a jockstrap Uh cup my nuts then I

Yeah

Check my ball hair What make sure it's all there

Yeah

Then call the pallbearer

Yeah

It's Music to Be Murdered By again why stop

Overkill like a pipe bomb in your pine box

You're all hitched to my cock

What

Went from punchin' a time clock to getting my shot

Then treated it like a cyclops

Like it's the only one I Only one eye got

And my thoughts are like nines cocked

Chk-chk

Every line's obscene pervertedest mind got the dirtiest rhyme stocked

That's why there's parental advising Visine every time I drop

Eye drop

So throw on the theme to Alfred I'll channel him like the Panama Canal

But how could I get up in arms about you s

Aying trash is all that I put out

B***h I still get the bag when I'm putting garbage out

Plus the potty mouth I'm not about to wash it out

The filthiest so all this talk about I'm washed up how preposterous

Because if cleanliness is next to godliness

It's obvious that it's impossible for me to be beside myself

And I'm 'bout that capital like a proper noun

Still on top the pile

Got me sitting on numbers like a pocket dial

Quick to call you out on your bulls**t

Don't make me give that crock a dial

'Cause if I do it's see you later alligator

Made it out the trailer then I made a vow to cater to no one

So hate I've gained about the same amount that's in my bank account

So here's some more s**t for you to complain about I say the

Bars that never slack but always get attacked

Yeah

I think they're gunnin' for me it's startin' to feel like that

Like I'm marked 'cause when I rap

It's like fallin' on my back in a tar pit

'Cause I have this target on my back

Ew yuck

But if I ever double-crossed my fans and lost my Stans

I'd probably pop five Xans

Yeah

Go in my garage start my van

Inhale as much carbon monoxide and exhaust I can

And doze off like snores

But odds like that with these thoughts

I have's like a giant getting squashed by ants

If this is the test of time I'd pass with flying colors

Like I just tossed my crayons

Tossed my crayons

Small medium and large size cans

Sanitizers of all types brands cost nine bands

Which is a small price for Lysol wipes and

If my palms brush across my pants I wash my hands

S**t hold on man

Motherf**ker

Happy birthday to

F**k

Shh quiet

I sit in silence in candlelit environments

Sipping Wild Irish while getting violent

Homicidal visions when I'm spitting like this

But really I'm just fulfilling my wish of killing rhymes

Which is really childish and silly but I'm really like this

I'm giving nightmares to Billie Eilish I'm Diddy's side b***h

What the f**k Hold on wait

"I'm Diddy's side b***h"

Oh I'm still east side b***h

So until the E-N-D since EPMD

Been givin' y'all the business Yeah D-R-E and me

Yup

From the MMLP to MTBMB

B***h

B***h it's 2020 you still ain't seein' me

Haha

So call me Santa Clause

Santa Clause

'Cause at the present Yeah I out-rap 'em all I'm at the mall

Got your b***h in a bathroom stall she could suck a basketball

Uh

Through a plastic straw Yeah with a fractured jaw

D**n

My dick is coat check Ha she wanna jack it off

Yeah

I'm so far past the bar I should practice law

Mentally I'm f**ked up generally

General Lee

Duh

Dukes of Hazzard car Yeah get the cadaver dogs

'Cause this is murder murder and you'll get murked murked

This music 'bout to kill you brr brr

Brr

This chicken hit my phone she said "Chirp chirp"

I said "Hut hut hike your skirt skirt"

Then go eat some worms like the early bird

What the f**k is love That's a dirty word

Make me fall in it there's not a girl on Earth

Or any other planet that's a world of hurt

And I won't buy a designer 'cause I don't pander

Panda

But I'm back with so many knots I need a chiropractor

D**n

And this the final chapter 'cause I'm either frying after

Or they gon' give me the needle What like a vinyl scratcher

DJ

Yeah I'm a card like Hallmark

At Walmart with a small cart buying wall art

And y'all who claim to be dogs aren't

No bite like a tree mostly just all bark arf arf

But y'all pickin' the wrong tree they call me dog because I'm barking

Bar king bark bark barking

And I got a lot yeah like where cars park

I'd describe it as bowling Why ball hard

Ball's hard

'Cause the gutter's where my mind is and when

It's in this frame better split like the five and the ten

'Cause without a second to spare I'm strikin' again

And when the beat is up my alley I go right for the pens

Pins

The cypher begins

I'm talkin' smack like heroin the mic's a syringe

It's like a binge Vicodin I would liken to tin

My mind is a recycling bin

There's no place I never been

But I never budge and I never bend

You hyperextend on me this game's life it depends

Like adult diapers for men

Even when I'm rappin' less stellar

It's sour grapes I still whine I'm the best seller

Cellar

Like a trey deuce spray you as these shots penetrate through Dre's booth

And go straight through your grapefruit no escape route

So you won't leave here just scathed with a few scrape wounds

Your a*s is grass and I am not gonna graze you

But if bars were semi-mac's I'd be the Mad Hatter

'Cause I got so many caps and you don't have any straps

Nah

So you'd be a fitted Yeah so don't act like you fittin' to snap

B***h I'll pee P on your head like a Phillies hat

Haha

No stoppin' me you're on a window shopping spree

B***h you probably go broke at the Dollar Tree

You never buy s**t all you ever cop's a plea

You're always punkin' out like Halloween

You rather opt to flee you need to stop it punk

Homie you're not a G act like you got the pump

And you're gonna cock the heat or get the Glock and dump

B***h if you shot a tree you wouldn't pop the trunk

Yeah and I'm buddies with Alfred we about to

Disembowel them gut 'em and scalp 'em yeah

This is 'bout to be the bloodiest outcome

'Cause we gon' make you bleed with every cut from this album

So I'm choppin' 'em up like Dahmer

The nut job with the nuts that are bigger than Jabba the Hutt

I'm in the cut and I'm out for the blood

It's lookin' like it's that time of the month

Carvin' 'em up with the bars while I sharpen 'em up dog and a mutt

I'm gonna f**k your mom in the butt with a thermometer f**kin' phenomenal but

Y'all'll get cut the f**k up like abdominals if you don't vámonos

I keep droppin' like dominos the formidable abominable

Stompin' a mudhole in my comp even if it's off the top of the dome

Son 'em get the Coppertone

I'm at the Stop and Go coppin' the Mop and Glo

Got your stomach in knots like you swallowed rope

You out of pocket though like a motherf**kin' wallet stole

Wait why'd the beat cut off

F**k it