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Datos de Eminem Nombre Verdadero: Marshall Bruce Mathers IIINombre Artístico: EminemDonde Nació: Misuri, Estados UnidosFecha de Nacimiento: 17 de octubre de 1972Edad: 51Nacionalidad: EstadounidenseGénero(s): Hip hop, rapActividad: 1995 – ActualidadInstrumentos: Voz, teclados, sampler, bateríaOcupación: Rapero, cantautor, productor discográfico, productor ejecutivo, escritor, actorDisquera(s): Interscope, Aftermath, Shady, Goliath Artistss, Web EntertainmentOtros Nombres: Slim ShadyCónyuge/Pareja: Kimberly Scott (matr. 1999; div. 2001); Kimberly Scott (matr. 2006; div. 2006)Hijos: 3Página Oficial: www.eminem.comRedes Sociales:Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube .'
'. ¿Quién es Eminem? Eminem (/ ɛmɪˈnɛm /; a menudo estilizado como EMINƎM), cuyo nombre verdadero es Marshall Bruce Mathers III, es un rapero, compositor y productor de discos estadounidense que nació el 17 de octubre de 1972 en St. Joseph, Missouri, Estados Unidos de Norte América. Es acreditado con la popularización del hip hop en América Central, el éxito global de Eminem y sus aclamadas obras son ampliamente consideradas por haber roto las barreras raciales para la aceptación de raperos blancos en la música popular. Si bien gran parte de su trabajo transgresor a principios de la década de 2000 lo convirtió en una gran controversia, llegó a ser una representación de la angustia popular y la clase baja estadounidense. Ha sido influyente para muchos artistas de varios géneros. Niñez, Juventud y Vida Familiar Eminem, poco después de su nacimiento, su padre abandonó a su familia. Hasta los doce años Mathers y su madre se trasladaron en varias ciudades y pueblos de Misuri incluyendo St. Joseph, Savannah y Kansas City antes de ir Ver BiograFia Completa

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INICIO Eminem Mystikal Diss

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Mystikal Diss - Eminem 1 1:24

Mystikal Diss Lyrics | Eminem

[Verse 1]
Hand me an eighth, beam me up and land me in space
I'ma sit on top of the world and spit on Brandy & Mase
I'm more than ill, scarier than a white person trapped in a room with Lauryn Hill
Human horror film, but with a lot funnier plot
And people will feel me 'cause I'ma still be the mad rapper whether I got money or not
As long as I'm on pills and I got plenty of pot
I'll be in a canoe paddling, making fun of your yacht
But I would like an award
For the best rapper to get 1 mic in The Source
And a wardrobe I can afford
Otherwise I might just end up back striking at Ford
And you wonder what the hell I need more Vicodin for?
Everybody's pissing me off
Even the No Limit tank looks like a middle finger sideways
Flipping me off
No wonder I'm a grave danger to my health
Why else would I kill you and jump in the grave and bury myself?

[Verse 2]
Are you afraid of a blade made of a razor with aids blood
Dripping from it ripping your stomach up from the waist up?
You talk a lot of junk but you was never ill though
I'm strong enough to beat you to death with a feather pillow
Tipped over some cows just for joke and a laugh
Jumped up choked a giraffe snapped his neck and broke it in half
Waging Wars, went up stage and sprayed cage with agent orange
And whipe my ass with his page in source
The demon is here I'm steaming this year
I rip Mystical's voicebox out and scream in his ear
It's not a gimmick trick it's an image I live it
Give a damn I don't know what a damn is to give it
Man I don't think this guy is well, I'm high as hell
I beat you with a live cat when I'm swinging him by he's tail
I'll freaking, I'll freaking
Laying your nuts on a dresser, just a nutsack by itself and bang dem stuffs with a spiked bat
Cut ya neck off and glue your head right back and leave you like that
You just triggered a prick who just mixed liquor who's itching and to leave you disfigured and stiffer than Chris-topher
Reeves I was teething with strep throat when you're mother was breastfeeding and gave it a flesh-eating disease
I'm iller than taking a hammer and beating your knees and walk trough South Central LA bleeding in jeans
Flashin back to being shot and repeatin the scenes
On how you just got smoked, and if you do live
You'll be too scared to tell it, like a Biggie and 'Pac joke
[Verse 3: Eminem]
The one man on the planet that'll drive off of the Grand Canyon
Hop out of a Grand Am and land in it handstandin'
Any man plannin' to battle'll get snatched outta his clothes
So fast it'll look like an invisible man standin'
I'm headed for Hell, I'd rather be dead or in jail
Bill Clinton, hit this — and you better inhale!
‘Cause any MC that chooses to go against me
Is gettin' taken advantage of, like Monica Lewinsky
Came home in a frenzy, pushin' a ten speed
Screamin' to Aunt Peg
With three spokes stickin' outta my pant leg
Forget a headache! Give me a migraine, damn it, I like pain
And you should be anywhere that a mic ain't
You rap knowin' you wack
You act up and I'm throwin' you down a flight of steps
Then I'm throwin' you back up 'em
If they don't like the track, 'uck 'em! The rap struck 'em
Harder than gettin' hit by a Mack truck and then backed up on
And any half-assed known rapper to trespass
Better be ready for the second Celebrity Deathmatch
So tell the medic to bring the medication and quickly
I'm sicker than a 2Pac dedication to Biggie
I'm free-fallin' feet first out of a damn tree
To stampede your chest 'til you can't breathe
And when I'm down to my last breath
I'ma climb the Empire State Building
And get to the last step and still have half left