Rap God di Eminem, del 2013, è entrata nel Guinness dei Primati come hit single con più parole nella storia
Se mai qualcuno dovesse domandarvi come mai Eminem viene considerato uno dei più grandi rapper e cantanti di sempre… bé, le risposte da dare sono tante in effetti, ma questa potrebbe essere più efficace di altre. Parliamo di Rap God, un singolo pubblicato dal cantante nel 2013 ed ufficialmente citato dal Guinness dei Primati come hit con più parole nella storia.
1560 in tutto, ma è solo l’inizio. Secondo quanto riportato dal Guinness (qui), infatti, questo numero di parole viene compresso in una canzone della durata di soli sei minuti e quattro secondi. Perché, naturalmente, ben altra questione sarebbe distribuire un numero tale di parole in una canzone di dieci o venti minuti.
In media quindi nella canzone Eminem rappa 4,28 parole per secondo (!), e in un frammento in particolare del brano, della durata di quindici secondi, il rapper sputa fuori ben 97 parole per una media di circa 6,46 parole al secondo. Una velocità inusitata, del resto ben testimoniata da altre sue performance come quella di Godzilla (2020).
Sempre secondo il Guinness, escludendo l’intro di 26 secondi della canzone (che è parlato e non da lui) e anche le parole pronunciate da Eminem solo nell’intro, il resto della composizione include 1460 parole distribuite in cinque minuti e trentotto secondo internamente alla struttura vera e propria strofa/ritornello.
E quali sono queste parole? Vi vogliamo riproporre il testo del brano per intero, invitandovi a leggerlo mentre ascoltate la canzone (che si trova qui sotto). Vi sfidiamo a seguire il ritmo incredibile del rapper! Per questo e altri straordinari aneddoti su Eminem e a tema musica, seguiteci sempre anche su LaScimmiaSente!
Rap God:
Intro
“Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings” “But I’m only going to get this one chance” (Six minutes—, six minutes—) “Something’s wrong, I can feel it” (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you’re on!) “Just a feeling I’ve got, like something’s about to happen, but I don’t know what. If that means what I think it means, we’re in trouble, big trouble; And if he is as bananas as you say, I’m not taking any chances” “You are just what the doc ordered“
Ritornello
“I’m beginnin’ to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box? They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rap-bot“
Strofa 1
“But for me to rap like a computer it must be in my genes I got a laptop in my back pocket My pen’ll go off when I half-cock it Got a fat knot from that rap profit Made a livin’ and a killin’ off it Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office With Monica Lewinsky feelin’ on his nutsack I’m an MC still as honest But as rude and as indecent as all hell Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill ‘em all with) This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop You don’t really wanna get into a pissin’ match With this rappity brat, packin’ a MAC in the back of the Ac’ Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack And at the exact same time, I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts While I’m practicin’ that I’ll still be able to break a motherfuckin’ table Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half Only realized it was ironic, I was signed to Aftermath after the fact How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs Feel my wrath of attack Rappers are havin’ a rough time period, here’s a maxi pad It’s actually disastrously bad for the wack While I’m masterfully constructing this masterpièce“
“‘Cause I’m beginnin’ to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box? Let me show you maintainin’ this shit ain’t that hard, that hard Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like Ι have got“
Strofa 2
“Well, to be truthful the blueprint’s Simply rage and youthful exuberance Everybody loves to root for a nuisance Hit the Earth like an asteroid Did nothing but shoot for the Moon since (Pew!) MCs get taken to school with this music ‘Cause I use it as a vehicle to “bus the rhyme” Now I lead a new school full of students Me? I’m a product of Rakim Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac, N.W.A, Cube, hey Doc, Ren Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position To meet Run–D.M.C., and induct them Into the motherfuckin’ Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Even though I’ll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames Only Hall of Fame I’ll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame On the wall of shame You fags think it’s all a game, ‘til I walk a flock of flames Off a plank and, tell me what in the fuck are you thinkin’? Little gay-lookin’ boy So gay I can barely say it with a straight face, lookin’ boy (Ha-ha!) You’re witnessin’ a mass-occur Like you’re watching a church gathering take place, lookin’ boy “Oy vey, that boy’s gay!”—that’s all they say, lookin’ boy You get a thumbs up, pat on the back And a “way to go” from your label every day, lookin’ boy Hey, lookin’ boy! What you say, lookin’ boy? I get a “hell yeah” from Dre, lookin’ boy I’ma work for everything I have, never asked nobody for shit Get outta my face, lookin’ boy! Basically, boy, you’re never gonna be capable Of keepin’ up with the same pace, lookin’ boy, ‘cause“
Ritornello
“I’m beginnin’ to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod The way I’m racin’ around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God Kneel before General Zod This planet’s Krypton—no, Asgard, Asgard“
Strofa 3
“So you’ll be Thor and I’ll be Odin You rodent, I’m omnipotent Let off, then I’m reloadin’ Immediately with these bombs I’m totin’ And I should not be woken I’m the walkin’ dead, but I’m just a talkin’ head, a zombie floatin’ But I got your mom deep-throatin’ I’m out my Ramen Noodle We have nothin’ in common, poodle I’m a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil It’s me, my honesty’s brutal But it’s honestly futile if I don’t utilize what I do though For good at least once in a while So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle enough rhymes To maybe try to help get some people through tough times But I gotta keep a few punchlines Just in case ‘cause even you unsigned Rappers are hungry lookin’ at me like it’s lunchtime I know there was a time where once I Was king of the underground But I still rap like I’m on my Pharoahe Monch grind So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine Appeal with the skin color of mine You get too big and here they come tryin’ To censor you like that one line I said on “I’m Back” from The Mathers LP 1 when I Tried to say I’ll take seven kids from Columbine Put ‘em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a 9 See if I get away with it now that I ain’t as big as I was, but I’m Morphin’ into an immortal, comin’ through the portal You’re stuck in a time warp from 2004 though And I don’t know what the fuck that you rhyme for You’re pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin’ cornrows You write normal? Fuck being normal! And I just bought a new raygun from the future Just to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad ‘Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather’s pad Singin’ to a man while he played piano Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel So Ray J went straight to the radio station The very next day, “Hey Fab, I’ma kill you!” Lyrics comin’ at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad) Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assumin’ I’m a human What I gotta do to get it through to you? I’m superhuman Innovative and I’m made of rubber so that anything you say is ricochetin’ off of me and it’ll glue to you and I’m devastating, more than ever demonstrating How to give a motherfuckin’ audience a feeling like it’s levitating Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting For the day that they can say I fell off, they’ll be celebrating ‘Cause I know the way to get ‘em motivated I make elevating music, you make elevator music “Oh, he’s too mainstream.” Well, that’s what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it “It’s not hip-hop, it’s pop,”—’cause I found a hella way to fuse it With rock, shock rap with Doc Throw on “Lose Yourself” and make ‘em lose it “I don’t know how to make songs like that I don’t know what words to use.” Let me know when it occurs to you While I’m rippin’ any one of these verses that versus you It’s curtains, I’m inadvertently hurtin’ you How many verses I gotta murder to Prove that if you were half as nice, your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?! Ugh, school flunky, pill junkie But look at the accolades these skills brung me Full of myself, but still hungry I bully myself ‘cause I make me do what I put my mind to And I’m a million leagues above you Ill when I speak in tongues, but it’s still tongue-in-cheek, fuck you I’m drunk, so, Satan, take the fucking wheel I’ma sleep in the front seat Bumpin’ Heavy D and the Boyz, still “Chunky but Funky” But in my head there’s something I can feel tugging and struggling Angels fight with devils and here’s what they want from me They’re askin’ me to eliminate some of the women hate But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have, then you may be a little patient And more sympathetic to the situation And understand the discrimination But fuck it, life’s handin’ you lemons? Make lemonade then! But if I can’t batter the women How the fuck am I supposed to bake ‘em a cake then? Don’t mistake him for Satan It’s a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation To trip a broad, and make her fall on her face and Don’t be a retard—be a king? Think not Why be a king when you can be a god?“
