by Marshall Bruce Mathers (otherwise known as Eminem)
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits,
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks,
Everytime I go to get up I just fall in pits,
My life's like one great big ball of shit.
If I could just put it all into all I spit,
'Stead of always tryin' to swallow it
Instead of starin' at this wall and shit,
While I sit - writer's block - sick of all this shit,
Can't call it shit.
All I know is I'm about to hit the wall
If I have to see another one of mom's alcoholic fits,
This is it, last straw, that's all, that's it,
I ain't dealin' with another fuckin politic,
I'm like a skillet, bubblin' until it filters up,
I'm about to kill it, I can feel it buildin' up.
Blow this building up, I've concealed enough,
My cup runneth over, I done filled it up,
The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts,
You think all I do is stand here and feel my nuts?
Well I'mma show you what, you gon' feel my rush,
You don't feel it? Then it must be too real to touch,
Bill the Dutch, I'm about to tear shit up.
Goosebumps? Yeah, I'mma make your hair sit up,
Yeah, sit up, I'mma tell you who I be,
I'ma make you hate me, cause you ain't me,
You ain't; it ain't too late to finally see
What you closed minded fucks were too blind to see.
Whoever finds me is gonna get a finder's fee
Out this world, ain't no one out they mind as me,
You need peace of mind, here's a piece of mine:
All I need's a line.
But sometimes I don't always find the words to rhyme
To express how I'm really feelin' at that time.
Yea sometimes, sometimes, sometimes,
Just sometimes, it's always me.
How dark can these hallways be?
The clock strikes midnight, one, two, then half past three.
This half ass rhyme with this half ass piece of paper,
I'm desperate at my task,
If I could just get the rest of this shit off my chest again.
Stuck in this slump, can't think of nothin',
Fuck, I'm stumped, uh, wait, here comes somethin'--
Nope, it's not good enough, scribble it out,
New pad, crinkle it up and throw this shit out.
I'm fizzlin out, thought I figured it out,
Ball's in my court but I'm scared to dribble it out.
I'm afraid, but why am I afraid?
Why am I a slave to this trade?
Cyanide, I spit to the grave, real enough to rile you up,
Want me to flip it? I can rip it any style you want.
I'm a switch-hitter, bitch, Jimmy Smith ain't a quitter,
I'mma sit until I get enough in me to finally hit a fuckin' boilin' point,
Put some oil in your joints.
Flip the coin, bitch, come get destroyed.
An MC's worst dream, I make 'em tense,
They hate me -- see me and shake like a chain-link fence.
By the looks of 'em you would swear that Jaws was comin',
By the screams of 'em you would swear I'm sawin' someone,
By the way they're runnin' you would swear the law was comin',
It's now or never, and tonight it's all or nothin'.
Mama, Jimmy keeps leavin on us, he said he'd be back,
He pinky-promised, I don't think he's honest.
I'll be back, baby, I just gotta beat this clock--
Fuck this clock, I'mma make them eat this watch,
Don't believe me? Watch, I'mma win this race,
And I'mma come back and rub my shit in your face, bitch.
I found my niche, you gon' hear my voice
Till you're sick of it, you ain't gonna have a choice,
If I gotta scream til I have half a lung,
If I have half a chance, I grab it,