New Tunes: Eminem – “Rap God”


With the ninth song off of his upcoming The Marshall Mathers LP 2  Eminem gives homage and calls out anyone willing to test.  How many will rhyme over this 6-minute plus instrumental over the next few weeks?  Try at your own risk. 


About WL Media

This blog is dedicated to all of the free thinkers who can appreciate the efforts of the ambitious and gifted artist.

Posted on October 14, 2013, in New Tunes and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.

  1. Gotta lissen to this again…real rap

  2. Em didnt let us down. Berzerk wasnt a good single but here he bringing back the insanity.

  3. The beat kinda lame but cant front on dude’s rhymes.
    Rappers better step it up now.

  4. Dude be retarded with flows

  5. Dont like this track at all.

  6. I mean he definitely snapped, but this beat is complete and utter feces. Excrement.

  7. He just put a milli rappers to sleep

  8. How can dre and rubin cosign this weak beat???

  9. Theres so many ways to flow but that was a good clinic.

  10. A remix with Busta would be dope

  11. Em’s one of the GOAT’s. Here’s why…


    Look, I was gonna go easy on you, not to hurt your feelings

    But Im only to get this one chance. (Six minutes, Slim Shady, youre on) Somethings wrong, I can feel it

    Like a feeling, like something is about to happen, but I dont know what

    If this means, what I think it means, were in trouble big trouble

    And if he is as bananas like you say, Im not taking any chances

    (You were just what the doc ordered.)

    [Verse 1]

    Im beginning to feel like a rap God, rap God

    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

    Now who thinks hes arms are long enough to slapbox?

    They said I rap like a robot so call me rapbot

    But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes

    I got a laptop in my back pocket

    My pen’ll go off when I half cock it

    Got a fat knot from that rap profit

    Made a living and a killing off it

    Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

    With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his (nutsack)

    I’m an emcee still as honest

    But as rude and indecent as all hell

    Syllable, killaholic (Kill ’em all with)

    This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip hop

    You dont really wanna get into a piece of match

    With this rappidy rappack and a mack in the back of the yac, pack backpack rap yep yackidy yac

    The exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts when I’m practicing that

    Ill still be able to break a motherfuckers table over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

    Only realized it was ironic I was on the Aftermath after the fact

    How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack

    Rappers are having a rough time, period; here’s a maxipad

    It’s actually disastrously bad

    For the wack to masterfully constructing this masterpiece ass

    [Verse 2]

    I’m beginning to feel like a rap God, rap God

    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

    Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox?

    Let me show you maintaining this shit ain’t that hard

    Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got

    Well, to be truthful the blueprint is simply raging youthful exuberance

    Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

    Hit the earth up like an asteroid, did nothing but chew other moons since

    Emcees get taken to school with this music cause I use it as a vehicle to busta rhyme

    Now I lead a new school of students

    Me, I’m a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac and

    W.N, Cube, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you they got Slim

    Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position

    To meet Run DMC and induct them to the motherfucking Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame

    Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

    Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

    On the wall of shame

    You fags think it’s all a game till I walk a flock of flames

    Off of planking, tell me what in the fuck were you thinking?

    Little gay looking boy, so gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy

    You witnessing a massacre like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy

    All day that’s boy’s gay, that’s all they say looking boy

    You take a thumbs up, pat on the back the way you go from your label everyday looking boy

    Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?

    I get a hell yeah from Dre little boy

    I’ma work for everything I have, never ask nobody for shit

    Get outta my face little boy

    Basically boy you’re never gonna be capable to keep up with the same pace looking boy

    [Verse 3]

    I’m beginning to feel like a rap God, rap God

    All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

    The way I’m racing around the track, call me NASCAR

    Dale earnhardt of the trailer park, the white trash God

    Kneel before general Zod this planet’s Krypton, no Asgard

    So you be Thor and I’ll be Odin, you rodent, I’m omnipotent

    Let off then I’m reloading immediately with these bombs I’m totin

    And I should not be woken

    I’m a walking dead, but I’m just a talking head, a zombie floating

    But I got your mom deep throatin’

    I’m out my Ramen noodle

    We have nothing in common, poodle

    I’m a doberman pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

    It’s me, my honesty’s brutal

    But it’s honestly futile if I don’t utilize what I do though

    For good at least once in a while

    So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle

    Enough rhymes to maybe to try and help get some people through tough times

    But I gotta keep a few punchlines

    Just in case cause even you unsigned

    Rappers are hungry looking at me like it’s lunchtime

    I know there was a time where once I

    Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I’m on my Pharoahe Monch grind

    So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

    A pill with the skin color of mine

    You get too big and here they come trying

    to censor you

    Like that one line

    I said back on the Mather’s LP one

    When I tried to say I take seven kids from Columbine

    Put em all in a line

    add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine

    See if I get away with it now then I ain’t as big as I was but I’m

    Morph into an immortal, coming through the portal

    But you’re stuck in a timewarp from 2004 though

    And I don’t know what the fuck that you rhyme for

    You’re pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrolls

    You like normal?

    Fuck being normal

    And I just bought a new raygun from the future to just come and shoot ya

    Like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

    Cause Fab said he looked like a fag

    at Mayweather’s pad singing to him while he played piano

    Man oh man that was a 24/7 special on a cable channel

    So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day

    Hey, Fab, I’ma kill you

    Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed (JJ Fad)

    Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I’m a human

    What I gotta do to get it through to you I’m superhuman

    Innovator, and I’m made of rubber so that anything you saying ricocheting off of me

    and it’ll glue to you

    Devastating and I’m always demonstrating how to give a muthafucking audience a feeling

    that is levitating

    Never fading, and I know that the haters are forever waiting

    For the day that they can say I fell off, they’d be celebrating

    Cause I know the way to get em motivated, I make elevating music

    You make elevator music

    Oh, he’s too mainstream well, that’s what they doing jealous, they confuse it

    Its not Hip Hop, it’s pop, cause I found a hella way to fuse it

    With rock, shock rap with Doc

    Throw on “Lose Yourself” to make them loose it

    I don’t know how to make songs like that, I don’t know what words to use

    Let me know when it occurs to you

    While I’m ripping any one of these verses

    It’s curtains, I’m inadvertently hurting you

    How many verses I gotta murder to prove

    That if you’re half as nice at songs you can sacrifice virgins too

    School flunkie, pill junky

    But look at the accolades the skills brung me

    Full of myself, but still hungry

    I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to

    And I’m a million leagues above you

    Ill when I speak in tongues, but its still tongue in cheek, fuck you

    I’m drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I’m asleep in the front seat

    Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky

    But in my head there’s something I can feel tugging and struggling

    Angels fighting with devils and here’s what they want from me

    They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate

    But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred that I had

    Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation

    Understand the discrimination

    But fuck it, life’s handing you lemons, make lemonade then

    But if I can’t battle the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?

    Don’t mistake it for Satan

    It’s a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation to trip a broad

    And make her fall on her face. Don’t be a retard

    Be a king? Think not why be a king when you can be a God?

  12. The beat simple on purpose.

    He displying lyrics fools.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: