[Chorus: Paul Simon]

"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me

"The answer is easy if you take it logically

I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free

There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"

[Verse 1: Eminem]

You're probably gonna think that I'm talkin' about you

And you're, goddamn, right, I am

Look at you: this is the minimal I could diss you

Subliminally, but I think criminal instinct

Has pushed me to the brink, "My pussy, does it stink?

He still loves me, 'cause he puts me in his ink

He does, doesn't he? Still is, isn't he?

Now I'm just playin' tug of war with his heart, 'cause he misses me

I can still fuck him and leave him whenever I feel frisky

And there's no risk of disease, 'cause he ain't with anyone, is he?"

This bitch really thinks she can get me

If she still wants me, drivin' across country

Strapped up to the front seat, missin' all her front teeth

Thinkin' to herself, "When's the next time he's gonna punch me?"

I told this cunt she's gonna overdo it once

And once she does, she'll be stuffed up in a trunk, crunchy

Scrunched up in a ball, bunched up nice and comfy

Fuck around, get dumped up in a lake 'fore you dump me

You cunning little cunt, deceitful witch

You thought you had me, 'til my shrink told me this:

[Chorus: Paul Simon]

"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me

"The answer is easy if you take it logically

I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free

There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"

[Verse 2: Eminem]

I feel like a serial killer, I keep dumpin' bodies in the lake

I'ma get caught and sent up the river

I shiver when I think of the company I keep

How do I know she ain't gonna kill me when I sleep?

I shriek every time she hands me something to drink

Sex kept us together, when we slept together, everything

Was all better, she made me feel like a king

Slowly she began lowering my self-esteem

She'd go to the club and not answer the phone when I call her

And I just bought her a truck for fifty thousand dollars

Accuse me of doin' drugs and scream and holla

Then I find a bag of coke on her, some marijuana

And all I know is every time I go

To them hidin' spots wherever she hides her blow

Them little bags of dope, there was a pile of coke

That's growin' smaller, and that was just a while ago

And I wouldn't even let on like I know

What was I supposed to do, call her out on it? We'd just argue

Say she put it there on purpose and flip the whole script

Ooh, she's a manipulative evil bitch!

A cunnin' little cunt, little deceitful witch

She thought she had me, 'til my shrink told me this:

[Chorus: Paul Simon]

"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me

"The answer is easy if you take it logically

I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free

There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"

She said, "It's really not my habit to intrude

Furthermore, I hope my meaning won't be lost or misconstrued

But I'll repeat myself at the risk of being crude

There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"