Puke

There I go , thinking of you again...

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.

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

I got a million reasons off the the top off my head that I can think of
Sixteen bars just ain't enough to put some ink to

So fuck I'm gonna start right here
I'll just be brief
I'm 'bout to rattle off some of the 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,
Now I'm sittin here with your name on my skin
I can't believe I went and did this stupid shit
My next girlfriend now her name's gotta be Kim....shiiiiit!

If you only knew, how much I hated you
For every mother fucking thing you've ever put us through
Then I wouldn't be standing here crying over you boooo-hoooo

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-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
You may not think you do
But you do
Every time thinnk of you, I puke

I was gonna 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

I stumbled on your picture yesterday and it made me stop and think
How much of a waste it'd be for me to put some ink to a stupid piece of 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 die
I hope you get to hell and satan sticks a needle in your eye
I hate your fuckin guts you fucking slut I hope you die, diiieee

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 yack

But 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 puke

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-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
You may not think you do
But you do
Every time I think of you, I puke

-Eminem, 2004