Eminem – Rhyme Or Reason

Rhyme Or Reason is another melodious and fascinating hip-hop and rap song presented by a phenomenal rapper, Eminem.

This intriguing record which appeared on his top charting album project called “The Marshall Mathers LP2” was officially released on 5 November 2013.

We would like you to add this undeniable hit song to your playlist, you won’t regret it yuh.

Listen up below!.

DOWNLOAD Eminem Rhyme Or Reason FREE AUDIO MP3

LYRICS

(What’s your name?) Marshall

(Who’s your daddy?) I don’t have one

My mother reproduced like the Komodo Dragon

And had me on the back of a motorcycle

Then crashed in the side of locomotive 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 are 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..)

Oh, it’s 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 promised land, and threaten everyone

‘Cause there’s no rhyme or no reason for nothing

 

Nah, (What’s your name?) Marshall

(Who’s your daddy?) I don’t know him, but I wonder

(Is he rich like me?) Ha ha

(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 cart, ripping the aisle apart

With great power comes absolutely no responsibility, for content

Completely, despondent, and condescending

The king of nonsense and controversy is on a

Beat-killing spree, Your Honor, I must plead

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) Does it mean it belongs to me?

‘Cause 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 it’s the…

 

It’s the time of the season, when hate runs high

And this time I won’t give it to you easy

When I take back what’s mine, with pleasured hands

And torture everyone, that is my plan, my job here isn’t done

‘Cause there’s no rhyme or no reason for nothing

 

(What’s 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 wouldn’t probably get one block

Without me knocking your block off

This is all your fault

Maybe that’s why I’m so bananas

I appeal to all those walks of life

Whoever had strife

Maybe that’s what dad and son talks are like

‘Cause I related to the struggles of Young America

When their fucking parents were unaware of their troubles

Now they’re ripping out their fucking hair again

It’s hysterical, I chuckle

‘Cause everybody bloodies their bare knuckles

Yeah, uh oh, better beware knuckle heads

The sign on my hustle says “Don’t knock”

The door’s broken, it won’t lock

It might just fly open, get cold-cocked

You critics come to 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, then you wonder why I lash out

Mister Mathers as advertised on the flyers

So spread the word ’cause I’m promoting my passion ’til I’m passed out

Completely brain-dead Rainman

Doing a Bankhead in a restraint chair

So bitch, 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

I still am a criminal

Ten-year-old degenerate grabbing on my genitals

The last Mathers LP done went diamond

This time I’m predicting that this one will go emerald

When will the madness end, how can it when

There’s no method to the pad and pen

The only message that I have to send

Is “Dad, I’m back at it again.”

Bitch (who’s your daddy?)