Eminem Quotes

And I am whatever you say I am
If I wasn't, then why would I say I am?
In the paper, the news everyday I am
Radio won't even play my jam

It hurts but I never show
This pain you'll never know
If only you could see just how lonely and how cold and frostbit I've become
My back's against the wall
When push come to shove I just stand up and scream: "Fuck 'em all!"

Have you ever loved someone so much you'd give an arm for?
Not the expression, no, literally give an arm for?
When they know they're your heart and you know you are their armor
And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

I don't rap for dead presidents, I'd rather see the president dead

They took away my right to bear arms
What I'm 'posed to fight with, bare palms?
Yeah right, they're comin' with bombs, I'm comin' with flare guns

Oh, no. Not me, not Marshall. You want to see Marshall? I'll show you Marshall!
I tried to show you art, but you just pick it apart

With every artist comes the image he portrays and the picture that he paints

But you can't just stand there and try to judge
It hurts but your jealousy probably tears you up inside as much
And it's such a pleasure every button that I touch
I treasure every glutton that I punish in my lust

Like a flame in the night
Like a ghost in the dark
There's a ray, there's a light
There's a hope, there's a spark

This world is mine for the taking, make me king!

You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo!

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already—Mom's spaghetti

Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity, to seize everything you ever wanted, in one moment—would you capture it, or just let it slip?

See, I'm a poet to some, a regular modern-day Shakespeare
Jesus Christ, the king of these Latter-day Saints here
To shatter the picture in which of that as they paint me as
A monger of hate, satanist, scatter-brained atheist
[…]
While I'm wavin' the pistol at sixty Christians against me
Go to war with the Mormons, take a bath with the Catholics
In holy water, no wonder they tried to hold me under longer

Maybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit
Maybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish