Soul Intent - Intellectual

[Scratches: DJ Butter Fingers]

"Those that bluffed got stuffed in the basement"

[Verse 1: Eminem]

I don't got perfect eyesight

But I could spot your fake ass in the dark wearin' solid black

Makin' yourselves look pitiful makes us all look wack

So don't stand up there on me with those [sinner?] [pals?]

Tryna act vicious when your whole fuckin' image is factitious

I see you got a rare case of gangster limp

All that practicin' on your walk when you wouldn't step to a staircase

You must think I'm too gullible to notice that

Your personality's gettin' too colorful, I don't believe I'm actually seein' this crap

You better get your head checked

'Cause I don't see how a redneck could be into rap

You even picked up an accent, "I'm from the streets!"

Whatever the fuck that meant, so now we want that chocolate

I knew this life was artificial to begin with

So I stepped on him with my feet, but now they're covered in dog shit

So don't give me that "Boogie Woogie, I'm real" rap

A minute more, I know what you're in it for, what's your intent?

[Chorus: Eminem]

Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket

Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport

And that's all that's really important

Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?

Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat

Or does your heart go in each tune?

I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus

And us jugglers need some elbow room

[Verse 2: Eminem]

Most independent companies are full of crap

Tryna get me to write a booty rap with a pop feel

But I wouldn't sell out for a Scooby Snack

Here's some hairspray, better make up a nickname

Yell enough to gain quick fame, and we'll get you airplay

But I ain't sellin' out, I could give a fuck less how much money

A label is willing to start shelling out, so here we are

We're all sitting in the basement getting overpatient

While these idiots are making shitty hits and are hitting gold

So the [?] events may look a hell of a lot easier than it really is

But they just wanna benefit from the glitter and glamorous wonderful world of rap

So they can make a track and live comfortable like Hammer is

With the more money, the more cost, so if you wanna be successful

You gotta have something special to stand out like a sore thumb

But don't say record sales make you dominant

Open up your mouth and talk like that again and I'll put a bomb in it, what's your intent?

[Chorus: Eminem]

Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket

Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport

And that's all that's really important

Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?

Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat

Or does your heart go in each tune?

I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus

And us jugglers need some elbow room

[Scratches: DJ Butter Fingers]

"Then I got my own" "Yes"

"To be down, you must appeal"

[Verse 3: Eminem]

I'll probably live more than twice than

The average rappers lifespan, 'cause half of 'em are dyin' out

From growin' a bigger nose than Barbra Streisand

'Cause you ain't never seen hard times, if my experiences were visible

You'd see hard times to make you miserable

Reminiscing back to when I couldn't even afford to record a track

If I was robbed I'd have to fight to my death for my quarter back

My whole fuckin' life has been full of emptiness

So what makes a hollow heart think that I'm a [?] for now, 'cause I'm penniless

As long as I respect myself that's all that counts, so no secret

My wallet's all the money [borrow?] small amounts it's good enough

If I know that I set my standards, prominence doesn't come before

Priorities, the more at ease, I'm being [known, I speed 'em up?]

And I'll keep workin' until I get it perfect

Growin' up the concept that [are?] beyond death, [closed minds] [?] interpret

Any sentence proves that there is soul intent

Which means I stuck to my intentions, what's your intent?

[Chorus: Eminem]

Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket

Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport

And that's all that's really important

Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?

Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat

Or does your heart go in each tune?

I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus

And us jugglers need some elbow room