[Intro]
(Photoshoot)
You know, everybody's been telling me
What they think about me for the last few months
Maybe it's time I tell 'em what I think about them

[Instrumental]

[Verse 1]
Gotta concentrate, against the clock I race
Got no time da waste, I'm already late, I got a marathoner's pace
Went from addict to a workaholic, word a Dr. Dre
In that first marijuana tape—guess I got a chronic case (Yeah)
And I ain't just blowing smoke, 'less it's in yo' mama's face
I know this time Paul and Dre
They won't tell me what not da say (Nope)
And though me and my party days
Have all pretty much parted ways
You'd swear da God I forgot I'm the guy that made "Not Afraid" (Yeah)
One last time for Charlamagne
If my response is late, it's just how long it takes
To hit my fucking radar, I'm so far away (Whoo)
These rappers are like Hunger Games
One minute, they're mocking JAY (Yeah)
Next minute, they get their style from Migos or they copy Drake
Maybe I just don't know when a turn around and walk away
But all the hate, I call it Walk-on-Water-Gate
I've had as much as I can tolerate
I'm sick and tired of waiting, I done lost my patience
I can take all of you motherfuckers on at once (Yeah)
You wanted Shady? You got him (Got him)
[Chorus 1]
(Yeah)
(Line 'em up)
(Rrr)
(Hah)
Somebody tell Bud—

[Verse 2]
'Den before I snap, he better fasten it
Or have his body bag get zipped
The closest thing he's had a hits is smacking bitches (Pump it up)
And don't make me have da give it back to Akademiks
Say this shit is trash again, I'll have you twisted
Like you had it when you thought you had me slipping at the Telly (Yeah)
Even when I'm getting brain, you'll never catch me with a thot
Lacking with it, "He ain't spitting like this on his last shit"
Hoe, you better go back and listen
You know me better, thinking I'll slow or let up
Call it trap 'cause it's a total setup
Hoping that chu rappers fall in that
Dre said, "Hold cha head up" (Huh?)
Kathy Griffin
Stacking ammunition, slap the clip in, cock it back on competition
This is how I shot ahead (Pew)
Gabby Gifford
My attack is vicious, Jack the Ripper, back in business
Tyler create nothing, I see why you called cha self a faggot, bitch
It's not just 'cause you lack attention
It's because you worship D12's balls, you're sack-religious
If you're gonna critique me
You better at least be as good or better
Get Earl the Hooded Sweater
Whatever his name is to help you put together
Some words, more than just two letters
The fans waited for this moment like that feature
When I stole the show (Hah)
Sorry if I took "Forever" (Haha)
[Chorus 2]
(Yeah)
(I won't)
(Line 'em up)
(Haha)
(It's too easy)
Just re—

[Verse 3]
'Member, I was here before you
And I'll be here after you make your run-in for you
Detractors, I'ma have to fuck Pitchfork with a corkscrew (Ah)
Just what the Doctor ordered
Revenge is the best medicine (Yeah)
Increase the dose, from least to most
And then tell the Grammys to go and fuck themselves
They suck the blood from all the biggest artists like some leeches
So they nominate 'em, get 'em there, get a name da MC the show
Every parasite needs a host (Haha)
Then give Album of the Year da somebody that no one's ever even heard of
All I know is I wrote every single word of everything I ever murdered
Time da separate the sheep from goats (Yeah)
And I got no faith in your writers, I don't believe in ghosts
When rap needed it most, I was that wing and a prayer (Huh)
A beacon of hope, put a B-I-R-D in the air
Somewhere some kid is bumping this while he lip-syncs in the mirror
That's who I'm doing it for, the rest, I don't really even care
But chu would think I'm carrying a Oxford dictionary in my pocket
How I'm burying these artists
On a scale of 'turnt' chu're 'minus'
Mine says 'very', yours says 'hardly'
And what's scary is you probably can compare me to your car 'cause I'm just barely getting started (Whoo)
And far as Lord Jamar, you better leave me the Hell alone
Or I'll show you an Elvis clone
Walk up in this house you own, thrust my pelvic bone
Use your telephone and go fetch me the remote
Put my feet up and just make myself at home (Yeah)
I belong here, clown, don't tell me 'bout the culture
I inspired the Hopsins, the Logics, the Coles, the
Seans, the K-Dots, the 5'9"s, and, oh
Brought the world 50 Cent, you did squat, piss, and moan
But I'm not gonna fall (Not gonna fall)
Bitch (Yeah, bitch)