The Eminem Show CD: Drips Lyrics Prelude Obie... Yo... Im sick / Damn... You straight dog? Chorus That's why I ain't got no time. For these games and stupid tricks/Or these b*tches on my d*ck. That's how dudes be getting sick/ That's how d*cks be getting drips. Falling victims to this sh*t/From these b*tches on our d*cks, f*cking chickens with no ribs/That's why I ain't got no time... Verse 1 (Obie Trice) Yo, I woke up f*cked up off the liquor I drunk. I had a bag of the skunk won in last nights Tunk/pussy residue was on my penis, Denise from the cleaners, f*cked me good, you shoulda seen this/big booty b*tch, switch unbearable, french roll stylin', body like a stallion/Sizin up the figure while my sh*t's getting bigger, debatin' on a f*ck or do I want to be her nigga/Caressin'this b*tch, plus I'm checking out them tits, sippin' on that fine sh*t I ain't used to buyin'/I gotta hit it from behind, its mandatory, like takin' hoe's money, but that's another story/For surely, the pussy on toast after we toast, her clothes fell like Bishop in Juice/The womb beater, clean pussy eater, insertin' my jock in that spot hotter than the hottest block/ Don't Stop! The response I got when I was knockin' it, clock steady tickin', kinky finger lickin'/and can on, semen's at my tip when she moans. I gotta slow down before I cum soon/ and work that nigga like a slave owner. When I dropped off my outfit, she knew I wanted to bone her/She foamin' at the lips, the one between them hips, pubic hairs lookin' like some sour cream dip/without the nacho, my d*ck hit the spot though, pussy tighter than conditions of us black folks/We in the final stretch, the last part of sex. I bust a fat ass nut, then I woke up next/like what the f*ck is goin' on here, this b*tch evaporated, pussy and all, just picked up and vacated/Now I'm frusturated cuz my d*ck was unprotected, and Doctor Wesley tellin me I really got that sh*t Chorus Verse 2 (Eminem) Now I don't wanna hit no woman, but this chick's got it comin', someone better get this b*tch, before she gets kicked in the stomach/and she's pregnant, buts she's eggin' me on, beggin' me to throw her off the steps of this porch/my only weapon is force and I don't wanna resort to any violence of any sort. But what's she shovin' me for?/ Doesn't she love me no more? Wasn't she huggin' me four minutes ago at the door?/Man, I'm this close to goin' toe-to-toe with this whore. What would you do if she was tellin' you she wants a divorce?/She's havin' another baby in a month, and it's yours, and you find out it isn't cus this b*tch has been visitin' someone else/and suckin' his d*ck and kissin' you on the lips when you get back, to Michigan, now the plot is thickenin' worse/cus you feel like you've been stickin' your f*ckin' d*ck in a hearse/so you paranoid at every little cold that you get, ever since they told you this sh*t, you've been holdin' your d*ck/so you go to the clinic, sweatin' every minute you in it, then the doctor comes out lookin' like Dennis the Menace/and it's obvious to everyone in the lobby it's AIDS, he ain't even gotta call you in his office to say it/so you jet back home, cus you gon' get that hoe, when you see her, you gon' bend her f*ckin' neck back, yo/cus you love her, you never would expect that blow, Obie told you the scoop, how could she stoop that low?/Jesus, I don't believe this, b*tch works at the cleaners, bringin' me home diseases, swingin' from Obie's penis/she's so deceivin', sh*t this hoe's a genius,she g'd us... Chorus I'm Busy f*ck these b*tches f*ck'em all, Get Money Shady Records, Obie Trice Eminem, muthaf*cka New millenium sh*t... Yeah Turn this sh*t off Turn this sh*t the f*ck off