Rhyme Or Reason de Eminem

Yeah, Yeah... Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
(What's your name?) Marshall
(Who's your daddy?) I don't have one
My mother reproduced like a komodo dragon
And had me on the back of a motorcycle
Then crashed in the side of loco-motive with rap, I'm loco
It's like handing a psycho a loaded handgun
Michelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrum
About to explode all over the canvas
Back with the Yoda of rap in a spasm
(Your music usually has them)
(But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn't
Follow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan)
A Jedi in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertaining
But docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain and
Probably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting
(puke) Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talk
Full of such blind rage I need a seeing eye dog
Can't even find the page, I was writing this rhyme on, (oh..)
Its on a rampage, couldn't see what I wrote I write small
(It says) Ever since I drove a 79 Lincoln with white walls
Had a fire in my heart, and a dire desire to aspire, to DIE HARD
So as long as I'm on the clock punching this time card
Hip hop ain't dying on my watch

But sometimes, when I’m sleeping, she comes to me in my dreams
Is she taken? Is she mine?
Don’t got, I don’t care, don’t have two shits to give
Let me take you by the hand, to promise land, a
nd threaten everyone
Cause there’s no rhyme or no reason for nothing

Nah, (Whats your name?) Marshall
(Who’s your daddy?) I don’t know him, but I wonder
(Is he rich like me?) Haha
(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)
NO

If he had, he wouldn’t have ended up in these rhymes on my pad
I wouldn’t be so mad, my attitude wouldn’t be so bad, yeah, dad
I'm The epitome and the prime example of what happens
When the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, and
Makes you want to get up and start dancing
Even if it is Charles Manson who just happens, To be rapping
Blue lights flashing, laughing all the way to the bank
Lamping in my K-Mart mansion, I’m in the style department
With a pile in my car, ripping the aisle apart
With great power comes absolutely no responsiblity, for content
Completely, despondent, and condescending
The king of nonsense and controversy is on, a
Beat killing spree, your honor, I must, plea
Guilty, cause I sparked a, Revolution
Rebel without a cause, who caused the evolution of rap
To take it to the next level, boost it
But several rebuked it, and whoever produced it
(Hip hop is the devil's music) Is that me? It belongs to me?
Cuz I just happen to be, a white honky devil with two horns
That don't honk but every time I speak you, hear a beep?
But lyrically I never hear a peep, not even a whisper
Rappers better stay clear of me, bitch
Cause its the...

But sometimes, when I’m sleeping, she comes to me in my dreams
Is she taken? Is she mine?
Don’t got, I don’t care, don’t have two shits to give
Let me take you by the hand, to promise land, a
nd threaten everyone
Cause there’s no rhyme or no reason for nothing

(Whats your name?) Shady
(Who’s your daddy?) I don’t give a fuck, but I wonder
(Is he rich like me?) Doubt it, ha
(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)

So yeah dad let's walk
Let's have us a father and son talk
But i bet we probably wouldn't get one block
Without me knocking your block off
This is all your fault
Maybe that's why I'm always so bananas
I appeal to all those walks of like
Whoever had strife
Maybe that's what dad and son talks are like
Cause I related to the struggles of America
When their fucking parents were unaware of their troubles
Now they're ripping out their fucking hair again
It's a stare ruckle, I chuckle
Cause everybody bloodies their bare knuckles
Yeah, uh oh, better beware knuckleheads
The sound of my hustle says don't knock
The doors broken it won't lock
It might just fly open, get cold cocked
You critics come pay me a visit
Misery loves company, please stay a minute
Kryptonite to a hypocrite
Zip your lip if you dish it but can't take it
Too busy getting stoned in your glass house
To kick rocks, and you wonder why I lash out
Mister Mathers as advertised on the flyers
Spread the word cause I'm promoting my passion till I'm passed out
A completely brain dead Rainman
Doing a bankhead in a restraint chair
So bitch, if you shoot me a look it better be a blank stare
Or get shanked in the pancreas, I'm angrier than
All 8 of the reindeer put together with Chief Keef
Cause I hate every fucking thing, yeah
Even this rhyme bitch, and quit tryna look
For a fucking reason for it that ain't there
But I still am a CRIMINAL
Ten year old degenerate grabbing on my GENITALS
The last Mathers LP that went diamond
This time I'm predicting this one will go EMERALD
When will the madness end, how can it when
There's no method the pad and pen
The only message that I have to say is:
Dad, I'm back at it again
Bitch

Sí, sí... Sí, sí, sí
(Cuál es tu nombre?) Marshall
(Quién es tu padre?) No tengo uno
Mi madre se reprodujo como un dragón de Komodo
Y me tuvo en la parte trasera de una motocicleta
Luego chocó con un locomotora loca, estoy loco
Es como darle una pistola cargada a un psico
Miguel Ángel con una pistola de pintura en un berrinche
A punto de explotar sobre el lienzo
De vuelta con el Yoda del rap en un espasmo
(Tu música suele tenerlos)
(Pero empeoró para el juego, tu entusiasmo no ha decayado
Seguirte debes, Rick Rubin mi pequeño Padawan)
Un Jedi en entrenamiento, cerebro colossal y pensamientos entretenidos
Pero dócil e imposible de explicar y, también soy vanidoso y
Probablemente encuentre una manera de quejarme de una pintura de Picasso
(vomitar) Skywalker, pero sueno como Chewbacca cuando hablo
Llena de tal rabia ciega que necesito un perro guía
Ni siquiera puedo encontrar la página en la que estaba escribiendo esta rima (oh...)
Está descontrolada, no pude ver lo que escribí porque escribo pequeño
(Dice) Desde que conduje un Lincoln del 79 con paredes blancas
Tuve fuego en mi corazón y un ardiente deseo de aspirar, a MORIR DURO
Así que mientras esté en el reloj marcando esta tarjeta de tiempo,
El hip hop no morirá mientras yo esté al mando

Pero a veces, cuando duermo, ella viene a mí en mis sueños
Está ocupada? Es mía?
No importa, no me importa, no tengo dos mierdas para dar
Déjame tomarte de la mano hacia la tierra prometida,
y amenazar a todos
Porque no hay rima ni razón para nada

No, (Cuál es tu nombre?) Marshall
(Quién es tu padre?) No lo conozco, pero me pregunto
(Es rico como yo?) Jaja
(Ha tomado algún tiempo para mostrarte lo que necesitas para vivir?)
NO

Si lo hubiera hecho, no habría acabado en estas rimas en mi libreta.
No estaría tan enfadado; mi actitud no sería tan mala, sí, papá.
Soy el epítome y el ejemplo principal de lo que sucede
Cuando el poder de la rima cae en las manos equivocadas,
y te hace querer levantarte y empezar a bailar,
aunque sea Charles Manson quien casualmente está rapeando.
Luces azules parpadeando, riéndome todo el camino hacia el banco,
Relajándome en mi mansión K-Mart; estoy en el departamento de estilo,
Con un montón en mi coche; rompiendo los pasillos.
Con gran poder viene absolutamente ninguna responsabilidad por el contenido.
Completamente desolado y condescendiente;
El rey del sinsentido y la controversia está aquí,
{Has perdido eso}.

But sometimes, when I’m sleeping…