Uh I'm not good, man Uh I always thought it's crazy Eminem grew up in Salem's Lot I'm from Salem, but on Broughton Road Is where I made my guap Jewish star around my neck To spotlight all the hate you got Kayla got so many guns My bitches shoot like Caitlin Clark I was nervous the first time That me and Joyner rendezvoused Never thought that Ye was racist 'Cause I wrote on Donda 2 Pusha T and Game were there But I was scared to talk to dudes Marilyn Manson told me They were listenin' to my song on loop All that shit just taught me Not to listen to the current chatter 'Cause my album flopped But it's still brought me to my favorite rapper I'm still mad at French Montana Just for how he made me feel I fucked two A&R's Got label head without a label deal I was two years old When Paul Wall came out with crazy grills I wish more white rappers studied him Instead of Shady's skills Nothin' worse than watchin' Lesser versions of a G.O.A.T. Tryna get a G.O.A.T.'s attention With like every song they post Get reminded of my father Every single time I flow 'Cause all my strokes of genius Just remind me of his strokes How many heart attacks did that man have? Fuck, I still don't know It's probably more than times I saw him from like seventeen years old When I was seventeen I started tourin', started gettin' busy So focused on work That dad became too scared to hit me If we stayed in touch I probably would've made sure That he got more healthy If I never rapped, he probably wouldn't be in the cemetery Just some guilt that I carry Berry flavored vodka 'til my body's What my homies carry Berries black me out And that remind me of his BlackBerry Found some naked women On my father's phone and played it That was really the first moment That I felt we were related Ten years later My girl found some sex tapes that she ain't in I told her: Hopsin said to film that shit And she just cried on me 'Cause the more famous I get Bitches will try and lie on me And I might wanna have proof You'll never hear a creepy story about me that is true Ask about me I ain't never doin' no fuck shit, if I do I'll probably make a song about it Before any rumors move I'll probably make a song About the kid I gave stitches to at the bell I'll probably make a song About who molested my dad at twelve Matter of fact It was nineteen-seventy-one inside of Tower School And he never got fired So be careful inside of Tower School Look like Ludacris when I act a fool Ménage à trois, got bitches switchin' head just like a power tool I wanna see that rapper's body leak And make his organs drool I love Canada I know they're pissed they gotta claim you I love Massachusetts I'm so pissed we gotta claim you I heard the shit you said about me Jealousy's a strange fruit Growin' deep inside of every rapper That surpassed me Then they got complacent I out lapped them like an athlete Rep never too different 'Cause I always been the black sheep I'm not the same color of my brothers But we family Grew up with some white people Who never said no racist shit But when I introduced them to my friends Their voices change a bit I start to get the feelin' They get too much of a kick out of it Like they think it’s so cool To be around a different heritage I couldn't find the words to tell these kids I know they don't intend But I get a feelin' They're fetishizin' my closest friends But I still got love for Marblehead I just can't relate to kids who grew up with a boat and shit Used to get so jealous That they had a father home with them My insecurities turned into hatred For the most of them But that was my bad Still I got their home address And egged their houses when I could And broke in to a few of them I've never been no bully though I really just was so depressed But that is no excuse to be a hater Got my own regrets I regret the way I intervened Regret the way I hit the scene Regret the way I did Jeanine No matter how many times she's told me that she has forgiven me Regret the way I left the pistol In my momma's whip for weeks That woman still deserve the world I hope I'm here to still be able Rest in peace Oliver Tree I never got to tell him thank you I believe that you don't gotta die To be somebody's angel No matter what happens I know I'm blessed and I'm stayin' grateful I just hope I ain't leavin'-