I’m Having a Relapse Freestyle lyrics

by

Eminem


[Intro]
Torture chambers, secret passageways, vats of acid, and deadly vaults

[Intro]
Ohh!
Chk-it, chk-it chk-it chk-it
Ohh!
Gue—chk-it chk-it—Guess who's back? Frrk-it
I said, ohh
Gue—Gue—Gue—Gue—it-chk-it
I said, ohh!
Rrrrr-chk-it-chk-it—Guess who's back? Frrk-it
I said, man!
Chk-it-chk-it-chk-it-chk-it
Damn! Ohh!
Gue—Gue—Guess who's back?
Gue—Gue—Gue—Gue—Guess who's back? Frrk-it
Damn, it feels good to be back
Guess who's back?
I'm having a relapse

[Verse: Eminem]
How the hell did he manage to get more felony charges?
He's already got life in jail, man, what the hell is his problem?
Well, to be honest
The smell of these chronic leaves make me hella demonic
They've compelled me to kill this elderly man
And I get these panic attacks, pop a Xanax, relax
Trying to stick my f*cking di*k inside a mannequin's ass
Then I get manic-depressed, see the orthodontist, get gassed
Man, it's kick-ass, the first thing I put on is the mask
Speaking of masks, man, it ain't too late to have a change of pace
And take it off and show my face, so you can see the things you face
And slice you up and cook you after you're murdered by strangulation
That's bacon souffle you making, ain't you? Well, thank you, Jason
There goes one more coma due to blunt force trauma
Just give me one more Soma and I'll be done for, mama
Go in the damn broom closet, another Valium, lost it
Shoving the vacuum nozzle, down the bathroom faucet
It seems like every day, I get a little flakier
The medication is making my hands a little shakier
Hand me that eighteen-month-old baby to shake him up
It'll only take me a second to choke his trachea
Breaking his neck in eighty-some places, baby, here Shady comes, lady
He's got the razor b-blades and the ch-ch-chainsa-saw, baby
You b-b-blundering, bumbling, m-m-mumbling dum-dums
Yeah, here I come-come, you hear the rumbling? Vrumm-vrumm
There's something inside of that blue tub and that drum-drum
A head and torso of someone; where'd it come from?
Who's it belong to? Maybe the girl with the long, blonde hair
Who disappeared and left her cheerleader pom-poms
Clearly, there's somethin' wrong, 'cause she didn't come home
She's missing, where is she? Something fishy is going on
I guess he stuck the b*tch with the pitchfork with the long prongs
Now, everybody get your dance on to my damn song, come on!
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