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Artist: Eminem f/ PHresher
Album:  Revival
Song:   Chloraseptic
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Eminem]
Instinctive nature, to bring the anguish (yeah) to the English language
With this ink you haters get rode/wrote on, like a piece of paper
This rap shit got me travellin place to place, you barely
leave your house, cause you're always stuck at your pad, it's stationary
Yeah, that's why when I brainstorm, gotta ride/write it out (write it out)
Simon Cowell of rhymin foul, that's why you sound
so shook, wire-bound notebook got tied around your throat, hook it inside your mouth
Go "hruh", that's what it's like when the mic is out
Cause I'm tearin at your flesh with it, 'til your laryn-x and neck are split
With these lyrics, weapons expert with, like hair extensions, extra clips
And you're scared to effin death of it, bitch you're starin at a legend that
in a pair of Skechers, sweatshirt ripped
And hoodie black, should be strapped to a chair or stretcher, electric, swear on every record bitch
Finger's so high in the air I'll bet your senses flip, like a barometric pressure switch
... Carin less who I offend with this
I'm at your neck like Pez dispense
Go 'head, spit your flow bitch

[Chorus: PHresher]
I'm at your throat like Chloraseptic, 'septic
And you got strep, I'm too complex with, 'plex with
This shit I wrote is on some next shit, next shit
I'm at your throat, I'm feelin reckless, reckless (yeah)

[Interlude: Eminem]
And I'll take a hundred of you, hundred of you
All at once like I had nothin to lose, what can I do?
My appetite for destruction is loose, destruction is loose
And all it wants is to have somethin to chew
Somethin to chew, somethin to chew

[Eminem]
Yeah, uhh, and still conjoined at
the hip with hop, still on point and poignant
Skilled as Floyd is, in this field and still no filter boy
I'll put you in your place (yeah) like a realtor boy, you still ain't in the building boy
I will destroy shit, even as I build it, get the drill bit
Pen is filled with poison, which is the source, easy to still pinpoint it
(Like what?) Like a real thin joint it (what) comes on Quilted Northern
(In what?) In a built-in toilet
(Yeah) Bitch, I told you I'm a dog (woof) I wouldn't heal with ointment
Way I'm kickin these fairies tails, should write a children's storybook (yeah yeah yeah)
Million voices in my head but still get a little bit of, thrill, and some real enjoyment
(Off what?) Off the feel of going in
(Like?) Like your bitch when she gives me BRAIN like she thinks I'm dumb
Grabs the crown of my dick and, blows me to kingdom come
'Til I feel anointed, she makes iller noises, when she's with me
Must be from the Windy City huh, pretty apparent, she's a MILF when blowin me
Cause I conned her into, rippin the condom in two, woo!
Dick is a bargainin tool, now I'm gettin blew like Klonopins, Rude Jude
I go there, you wouldn't? Well, I'll still have a few views
in common with you, just not YouTube, cause

[Chorus]

[Eminem]
You're a has-been, that has been the case since back when you last went
and threw your hat in the race, you've been trash (bitch) stick your raps in the trash bin
Or end up in my, next rhyme you're a, fuckboy so, next time
It's gonna be heads flyin like Dez Bryant with a TEC-9 against Rex Ryan (yeah!)
Now watch me set it like correct time
All you get is sloppy seconds like a Timex, I, clock rejects into the next life
Talkin reckless but it's just my, strongest suit but you can get my
Columbian necktie, prostitute, just climb in the Humvee and let's ride
Why you hitching at night? I put an end to your life, sex crime
Kidding aside, insidious vibe, girl you know you got the prettiest eyes
But all you're getting is bribe, ending your life to try to get you inside
Then we gon' end up spending the night and I'm skinning your hide like an Indian tribe
(Hup!) What kind of nut drives a Budweiser truck, finds a slut
Tries to surprise her, cuffs, ties her up, binds up, cuts, slices her
twice but the muff diver must just like it rough, fuck right in her vagina, blood
Flies up on the visor, like a geyser, uh {"Music please"}
Enthusiast of the roofie, goal is to get a floozy inside the jacuzzi
And have a loosey-goosey as Cool C is with an Uzi (see)
But I am to rap, what blue jeans mean to Bruce Springsteen, glued we be
I'm truTV, you're too PG, I'm Schoolly D, you're Spoonie Gee!
No diss there, just notice there are no similarities that we share
Besides the fact we breathe air
Happily married, to rap and I'm glad that we buried, the hatchet
and patched it up, now I'm back to ratchet up my attack
And I'm at your motherfuckin throat like

[Chorus]

[Interlude]