Eminem – Alfred’s Theme

Eminem – Alfred’s Theme Lyrics

Artist: Eminem
Song: Alfred’s Theme

I give it an extra swipe with a Lysol disinfectant wipe
coronavirus in effect tonight,
Antiseptics on deck, I got every type
I throw on my tux, then I give zero ****s,

Then I act like a jockstrap, cup my nuts
Then I check my bald hair,
Make sure it’s all there, then call the pallbearer
It’s Music to Be Murdered By again, why stop?

Overkill, like a pipe bomb in your pine box
You’re all hitched to my c#ck (What?)
Went from punching the time clock to getting my shot
Then treating it like a cyclops

Like it’s the only one I got and my thoughts are like knives cocked
Every lines I’ve seen perverted it’s mine got
The dirtiest rhyme stop
That’s why there’s parental advising every time I drop

‘Cept I want a fiend, the Alfred Al, channel him like the Panama Canal
But how could I get up in arms
About you saying trash is all I put out?
b#tch, I still get the bag when I’m putting garbage out

Plus, the potty mouth, I’m not about to wash it out, the filthiest
So all this talk about I’m lost is preposterous
Because if cleanliness is next to godliness,
It’s obvious that it’s impossible for me to be beside myself

And I’m ’bout that capital, like a proper noun
Sit on top the pile, got me sitting on numbers like a pocket dial
Quick to call you out on your
b#llsh#t, don’t make me get that croc a dial

‘Cause if I do, it’s see you later, alligator, made it out the trailer
Then I made a
Hate I’ve gained about the same amount that’s in my bank account
So here’s some more sh#t for you to complain about, I say the

Bars that never smack, but always get attacked
I think they’re gunnin’ for me, it’s startin’ to feel like that
Like I’m marked ’cause when I rap,
It’s like fallin’ on my back in a tar pit

‘Cause I have this target on my back (Ew, yuck)
But if I ever double-cross my fans and lost my stans
I’d probably pop five Xans, go in my garage, start my van
Inhale as much carbon monoxide and exhaust I can

And doze off like, but odds like that with these thoughts I have
It’s like a giant getting squashed by ants
If this is the test,
The time I pass with flying colors, like I just tossed my crayons

Small, medium, and large size cans
Sanitizers of all types, brands, cost nine bands
Which is a small price for Lysol wipes and if
My palms brush across my pants, I wash my hands

Shit, hold on, man
Mother****er
Happy birthday to-
**** (Shh, quiet)

I sit in silence in candlelit environments
Sipping wild Irish while getting violent
Homicidal vision when I’m spitting like this
But really I’m just fulfilling my wish

Of killing rhymes which is really childish
And silly, but I’m really like this,
I’m giving nightmares to Billie Eilish
I’m Diddy’s side, b#tch

What the ****? Hold on, wait
“I’m Diddy’s side, b#tch”?
Oh, I’m still east side, b#tch
So tell the END, since he PMD

Been givin’ y’all the business, D.R.E and me
From the MMLP to in TB&B
b#tch is 2020, you still ain’t seein’ me
So call me Santa Clause, I got the present, I out-rap them all

I’m at the mall, got your b#tch in a bathroom stall
She could suck a basket ball through
A plastic straw with a fractured jaw
My dick is coat check, she want to jack it off

I’m so far passed the bar, I should practice law
Mentally, I’m ****ed up generally
Duke’s a hazard car, and if you could dogs
‘Cause this is murder, murder and you get murked, murked

This music ’bout to kill you, brr, brr
This chicken hit my phone, she said “Chirp, chirp”
I said, “Hut, hut, hike your skrrt, skrrt”
Then go eat some worms, like the early bird

What the **** is love? That’s a dirty word
Make me fall in, there’s not a girl on Earth
Or any other planet, that’s a world of hurt
And I won’t buy her designer, ’cause I don’t pander

But I’m back with so many knots, I need a chiropractor
And this the final chapter, ’cause I’m either frying after
Or they’re gon’ give me the needle like a vinyl scratcher
Yeah, I’m a card,

Like Hallmark at Walmart with a small cart buying wall art
And y’all who claim to be dawgs aren’t
No bite like a tree mostly just all bark, arf, arf
But y’all pickin’ the wrong tree,

They call me Dawg because I’m barking (Bark, bark)
And I got a lot, yeah, like where cars park
I describe it as bowling (Why?) ball hard (Ball’s hard)
‘Cause the gutter’s where my mind is in

It’s a misframe, but I slit like the five and the ten
‘Cause without a second to spare, I’m strikin’ again
And when the beat is up my alley, I go right for the pins
The cypher begins, I’m talkin’ smack like her#in

The mic’s a syringe, it’s like a binge, Vicodin
I would like to pretend my mind’s a recycling bin
There’s no place I never been, but I never budge and I never bend
You hyperextend on me, this game’s life, it depends

Like adult diapers for men, even when I’m rappin’ less stellar
It’s sour grapes, I still whine, I’m the best seller
Like a train
Spray you as these shots penetrate through Dre’s booth

And goes straight through your grapefruit, no escape route
So you won’t leave me at your scathe, with a few scrape wounds
Your #ss is grass and I’m not gonna graze you
But a bar’s , I need a Mad Hatter

‘Cause I got so many caps, and you don’t have any straps
You’d be a fitted, so don’t act like you’re fittin’ to snap
b#tch, I’ll pee on your head, like a Philly’s hat (Ha Ha)
No stoppin’ me, you’re on a window shopping spree

b#tch, you probably go broke at the Dollar Tree
You never buy sh#t, all you ever cop’s a plea
You’re always punkin’ out like Halloween
You rather opt to flee, you need to stop it, punk

Homie, you not a G, act like you got the pump
You’re gonna pop the heat or get the Glock and go
b#tch, if you shot a tree, you wouldn’t pop the trunk
Yeah, and I’m buddies with Alfred,

We about to disembowel, then gut ’em and scalp ’em
Yeah, this about to be the bloodiest outcome
‘Cause we gon’ make you bleed with every cut from this album
So I’m choppin’ ’em up like

Got ’em bigger than Jabba the Hutt
I’m in the cut, and I’m out for the blood
It’s lookin’ like it’s that time of the month
Carvin’ ’em up with the bars while I sharpen ’em up, dawg

I’m the mutt,
I’m gonna **** your mom in the butt
With a thermometer, ****in’ phenomenal
But y’all looking up like abdominals

If you don’t , droppin’ like dominos
The formidible, abominable
Even if it touch the top of the dome, saw ’em get the
I’m at the stop-and-go, hop on the mop and gloat

you’re stomachin’ knots like you swallowed rope
You out of pocket, throw like a mother****in’ wallet stole
Wait, why’d the beat cut off?
**** it
Find more lyrics at https://dcslyrics.com

Eminem Lyrics – Alfred’s Theme

Please support our site by sharing it.
And please follow our site to get the latest lyrics for all your favourite songs.

From the album:
Music To Be Murdered By – Side B (Deluxe Edition) [Explicit]
Release Year: 2020