Lyrics
You fucking cunt
Pick up the god damn phone

Bitch, where the fuck were you Tuesday? With who you say?
I wasn't at the studio bitch, what'd you do? Screw Dre?
You went there looking for me?
Boo, that excuse is too lame
Keep playin' me, you're gonna end up with a huge goose egg
You fake, lying slut, you never told me you knew Drake
And Lupe? You wanna lose two legs?
You tryin' to flip this on me?
If I spent more time with you, you say
"Okay, yeah, and I'm cuckoo eh?" Well, screw you
And I'll be the third person who screwed you today
Oh, fourth; Dre, Drake, Lupe, ooh touché
But you're too two-faced for me
Thought you was my number one true blue ace, but you ain't
And I can't see you when you make that wittle boo-boo face
'Cause I'm hanging up this phone, boo
You make my fuckin' Bluetooth ache
You're feeling blue? Too late
Go smurf yourself, you make me wanna smurf and puke blue Kool Aid
Here's what you say to someone you hate

My life would be so much better
If you just dropped dead (dead)
I was laying in bed last night thinking
And this thought just popped in my head
And I thought, wouldn't shit just be a lot easier
If you dropped dead? (Dead)
I would feel so (so) much (much) better (better, better, better)

Think I just relapsed, this bitch pushed me over the brink
Hop on the freeway, tryna get some time alone and just think
'Til the cops pulled me over but they let me go
'Cause I told 'em I'm only driving drunk
'Cause that bitch drove me to drink
I'm back on my "fuck hoes", with a whole new hatred for blondes
But bias? I hate all bitches the same baby, come on
Excuse the pun, but bitch is such a broad statement
And I am channelin' my anger through every single station it's on
'Cause a woman broke my he-art, I say he-art
'Cause she ripped it in two pa-arts
And threw it in the garbage, who do you think you are?
Bitch, guess it's time for me to get the dust off
And pick myself up off the carpet
But I'll never say the L-word again
I lo-lo-lo-lo lesbian, ah
I hope you hear this song and go into a cardiac arrest
My life would be so much better if you just

My life would be so much better
If you just dropped dead (dead)
I was laying in bed last night thinking
And this thought just popped in my head
And I thought, wouldn't shit just be a lot easier
If you dropped dead? (Dead)
I would feel so (so) much (much) better (better, better, better)

'Cause you told me
You'd love me
Forever
Bitch, that was a lie
Now I never
Wanted someone to die
So bad in my fucking life
But fuck it, there's other fish in the sea

And I'ma have a whale of a time
Being a single sailor for the night, bitch, on a scale of
One to ten shit, I must be the Holy Grail of
Catches, hoe, I got an Oscar attached to my fucking name (De La)
I might hit the club, find a chick that's tailor-
Made for me, say "fuck it", kick some shots back, get hammered and nail her
These bitches tryna get attached but they're failin'
To latch onto the tail of my bumper
They're scratching at the back of my trailer like I'm itchin' to get hitched
Yeah, I'm rich as a bitch, but bitches ain't shit
I'd rather leave a bitch in a ditch
Bitch, you complain when you listen to this
But you still throw yourself at me
That's what I call pitchin' a bitch
That's why I'm swinging at these chicks on sight
Long as I got a bat and two balls, it's foul, but my dick's on strike
So all that love shit is null and void, bitch, I'm a droid
I avoid Cupid, stupid, wasn't for blowjobs you'd be unemployed
Oi oi oi, man oh man, you boy boy boy's
Getting sick at these girls, girls, girls
Oink, oink, oink
You fucking pigs, all you're good for is doink, doink, doink
I got ninety-nine problems and the bitch ain't one
She's all ninety-nine of 'em I need a machine gun
I take 'em all out (all out), I hope you hear this song
And go into a cardiac arrest
Have a heart attack and just drop dead
And I'ma throw a fucking party after this, 'cause yes

My life would be so much better
If you just dropped dead (I hate you)
I was laying in bed last night thinking
And this thought just popped in my head (you made me this way)
And I thought, wouldn't shit just be a lot easier
If you dropped dead? (Dead)
I would feel so (so) much (much) better (better, better, better)

I'm just playin', bitch, you know I love you

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Luis Resto, Marshall Mathers




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