Rhyme Or Reason

(What's your name?)
Marshall
(Who's your Daddy?)
I don't have one
My mother reproduced like a Komodo Dragon
And had me on the back of a motorcycle
Then crashed in the side of a locomotive with rap, I'm loco
It's like handing a psycho a loaded handgun
Michael Angelo with a paint gun in a tantrum
'Bout to explode all over the canvas
Back with the Yoda of rap in a spasm
Your music usually has them
But waned for the game, your enthusiasm it hasn't
Follow you must, Rick Ruben my little Padawan

A Jedi in training, colossal brain and thoughts are entertaining
But docile and impossible to explain and
I'm also vain and probably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting
Puke Skywalker but sound like Chewbacca when I talk
Full of such blind rage, I need to see an eye doc
Can't even find the page I was writing this rhyme on

Oh, it's on a rampage
I couldn't see what I wrote, I write small
It says ever since I drove a '79 Lincoln with white walls
Had a fire in my heart and a dire desire to aspire, to Die Hard
So as long as I'm on the clock punching this time card
Hip hop ain't dying on my watch

But sometimes when I'm sleepin'
She comes to me in my dreams
Is she taken? (Is she taken)
Is she mine? (Is she mine)
Don't got time, don't care, don't have two shits to give
Let me take you by the hand to promise land
And threaten everyone
'Cause there's no rhyme or no reason
For nothing

(What's your name?) Marshall
(Who's your Daddy?) I don't know him but I wonder
(Is he rich like me?)
(Has he taken), has he taken
(Any time) Any time
(To show) To show you what you need to live?

No, if he had, he wouldn't have ended up in these rhymes on my pad
I wouldn't be so mad, my attitude wouldn't be so bad
Yeah dad
I'm the epitome and the prime example of what happens
When the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands and
Makes you wanna get up and start dancin'
Even if it is Charles Manson
Who just happens to be rapping, blue light flashin'
Laughing all the way to the bank, lampin' in my K-Mart mansion
I'm in the style department with a pile in my car
Rippin' the aisle apart but

With great power comes absolutely no responsibility for content
Completely despondent and condescending
The king of nonsense and controversy is on a
Beat killing spree, your honor I must plead guilty
'Cause I sparked a revolution, rebel without a cause
Who caused the evolution of rap to take it to the next level, boost it
But several rebuked it and whoever produced it
(Hip hop is the devil's music)

Does that mean it belongs to me?
'Cause I just happen to be a white honky devil with two horns
That don't honk, but every time I speak you hear a beep
But lyrically I never hear a peep, not even a whisper
Rappers better stay clear of me, bitch 'cause it's the

It's the time of the season
When hate runs high
And this time I won't give it to you easy
(When I take) When I take back what's mine with pleasured hands
And torture everyone that is my plan
My job here isn't done
'Cause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing

So (what's your name?) Shady
(Who's your Daddy?) I don't give a fuck but I wonder
(Is he rich like me?) Doubt it, ha
Has he taken (has he taken) any time (any time)
(To show) To show you what you need to live?

So yeah, dad let's walk
Let's have us a father and son talk
But I bet we probably wouldn't get one block
Without me knocking your block off, this is all your fault
Maybe that's why I'm always so bananas
I appeal to all those walks of life, whoever had strife
Maybe that's what dad and son talks are like

'Cause I related to the struggles of young America
When their fucking parents were unaware of their troubles
Now they're ripping out their fucking hair again, it's hysterical
I chuckle, 'cause everybody bloodies their bare knuckles, yeah, uh oh
Better beware knuckleheads, the sign of my hustle says don't knock
The doors broken, it won't lock
It might just fly open, get cold cocked
You critics come pay me a visit

Misery loves company, please stay a minute
Kryptonite to a hypocrite
Zip your lip if you dish but can't take it
Too busy getting stoned in your glass house to kick rocks
Then you wonder why I lash out
Mister Mathers as advertised on the flyers
So spread the word 'cause I'm promoting my passion till I'm passed out

A completely brain dead rain man
Doing a Bankhead in a restraint chair
So bitch if you shoot me a look, it better be a blank stare
Or get shanked in the pancreas
I'm angrier than all eight of the reindeer
Put together with Chief Keef 'cause I hate every fucking thing, yeah

Even this rhyme bitch
And quit tryna look for a fucking reason for it that ain't there
But I still am a (criminal)
Ten year old degenerate grabbing on my (genitals)
The last Mathers LP that went diamond
This time I'm predicting this one will go Emerald
When will this madness end? How can it when
There's no method to the pad and pen
The only message that I have to sing is "dad I'm back at it again"

Bitch (who's your Daddy?)