[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you
I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little poem
But off of the dome would probably be a little more,
More suitable for this type of song–whoa
I got a million reasons off the top of my head that i could think of
Sixteen bars, this ain’t enough to put some ink ta
So fuck it, i’ma start right here by just be brief-a
Bout to rattle off some other reasons
I knew i shouldn’t go and get another tattoo of you
On my arm, but what do i go and do
I go and get another one, now i got two
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m sittin’ here with your name on my skin
I can’t believe i went and did this stupid shit again
My next girlfriend, now her name’s gotta be kim
Shi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-it
If you only knew how much i hated you
For every motherfuckin’ thing you ever put us through
Then i wouldn’t be standing here crying over you
Boo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-who
[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you
I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little letter
But i thought a song would probably be a little better
Instead of a letter
That you’d probably just shred up–yeah
I stumbled on your picture yesterday and it made me stop and think of
How much of a waste it’d be for me to put some ink ta, a stupid piece a
Paper, i’d rather let you see how
Much i fuckin’ hate you in a freestyle
You’re a fuckin’ cokehead slut, i hope you fuckin’ die
I hope you get to hell and satan sticks a needle in your eye
I hate your fuckin’ guts, you fuckin’ slut–i hope you die
Di-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ie
But please don’t get me wrong, i’m not bitter or mad
It’s not that i still love you, it’s not ’cause i want you back
It’s just that when i think of you, it makes me wanna yak
-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ag
What else can i do, i haven’t got a clue
Now i guess i’ll just move on, i have no choice but to
But every time i think of you now, all i wanna do
Is pu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uke
[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you, i puke
Puke Eminem
There i go–thinking of you again
[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you
I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little poem
But off of the dome would probably be a little more,
More suitable for this type of song–whoa
I got a million reasons off the top of my head that i could think of
Sixteen bars, this ain’t enough to put some ink ta
So fuck it, i’ma start right here by just be brief-a
Bout to rattle off some other reasons
I knew i shouldn’t go and get another tattoo of you
On my arm, but what do i go and do
I go and get another one, now i got two
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m sittin’ here with your name on my skin
I can’t believe i went and did this stupid shit again
My next girlfriend, now her name’s gotta be kim
Shi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-it
If you only knew how much i hated you
For every motherfuckin’ thing you ever put us through
Then i wouldn’t be standing here crying over you
Boo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-who
[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you
I was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little letter
But i thought a song would probably be a little better
Instead of a letter
That you’d probably just shred up–yeah
I stumbled on your picture yesterday and it made me stop and think of
How much of a waste it’d be for me to put some ink ta, a stupid piece a
Paper, i’d rather let you see how
Much i fuckin’ hate you in a freestyle
You’re a fuckin’ cokehead slut, i hope you fuckin’ die
I hope you get to hell and satan sticks a needle in your eye
I hate your fuckin’ guts, you fuckin’ slut–i hope you die
Di-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ie
But please don’t get me wrong, i’m not bitter or mad
It’s not that i still love you, it’s not ’cause i want you back
It’s just that when i think of you, it makes me wanna yak
-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ag
What else can i do, i haven’t got a clue
Now i guess i’ll just move on, i have no choice but to
But every time i think of you now, all i wanna do
Is pu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uke
[chorus]
You don’t know how sick you make me
You make me fuckin’ sick to my stomach
Every time i think of you, i puke
You must just not know–whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa
You may not think you do, but you do
Every time i think of you, i puke
Fuckin’ bitch