You know I just don’t get it
Last year I was nobody
This year I’m selling records
Now everybody wants to come around like I owe em something
Heh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?
Get the fuck out of here

You see I’m, just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
I’m just a regular guy
I don’t know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
Now everybody wanna run their mouth
And try to take shots at me (take shots at me)

Yo, you might see me jogging, you might see me walking
You might see me walking a dead rottweiler dog
With its head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollering at him ’cause the son of a bitch won’t quit barking
(Grrrr, arf arf) Or leaning out a window, with a cocked shotgun
Driving up the block in the car that they shot ‘Pac in
Looking for Big’s killers, dressing ridiculous
Blue and red like I don’t see what the big deal is
Double barrel twelve gauge bigger than Chris Wallace
Pissed off, ’cause Biggie and ‘Pac just missed all this
Watching all these cheap imitations get rich off ’em
And get dollars that shoulda been theirs like they switched wallets
And amidst all this Crist’ popping and wrist watches
I just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remy Martin
Starting shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman (“God damnit!”)
I’m anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
Whose instinct’s to kill N’Sync, don’t get me started
These fuckin’ brats can’t sing and Britney’s garbage
What’s this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars
All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to wiling out and being violent?
Whatever happened to catching a good old-fashioned
Passionate ass-whooping and getting your shoes coat and your hat tooken?
New Kids on the Block, sucked a lot of dick
Boy/girl groups make me sick
And I can’t wait ’til I catch all you faggots in public
I’ma love it.. (hahaha)
Vanilla Ice don’t like me (uh-uh)
Said some shit in Vibe to spite me (yup)
Then went and dyed his hair just like me (hehe)
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me
And run around screaming, “I don’t care, just bite me” (nah nah)
I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4-year-old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer
And call themselves “Clowns” ’cause they look queer
Faggy 2 Dope and Silent Gay
Claiming Detroit, when y’all live twenty miles away (fuckin punks)
And I don’t wrestle, I’ll knock you fuckin faggots the fuck out
Ask ’em about the club they was at when they snuck out
After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
(Ah!) Ducked down and got paint balls shot at they truck, blaow!
Look at y’all running your mouth again
When you ain’t seen a fuckin Mile Road, South of 10
And I don’t need help, from D12, to beat up two females
In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
“Slim Anus,” you damn right, Slim Anus
I don’t get fucked in mine like you two little flaming faggots!

‘Cause I’m just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
I’m not a wrestler guy
I’ll knock you out if you talk about me (you talk about me)
Come and see me on the streets alone
If you assholes doubt me (assholes doubt me)
And if you wanna run your mouth
Then come take your best shot at me (your best shot at me)

Is it because you love me that y’all expect so much of me?
You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
Now because of this blonde mop that’s on top
Of this fucked up head that I’ve got, I’ve gone pop?
The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
“Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
So now he thinks he’s too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy”
My fuckin bitch mom’s suing for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I’ve been stealing
Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress
Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
It doesn’t matter your [attorney Fred Gibson’s a] faggot!
Talking about I fabricated my past
He’s just aggravated I won’t ejaculate in his ass (Uh!)
So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
For every million I make, another relative sues
Family fighting and fussing over who wants to invite me to supper
All of a sudden I got 90 some cousins (Hey it’s me!)
A half-brother and sister who never seen me
Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
Now everybody’s so happy and proud
I’m finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend’s house
Hey-hey! And then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass
OK, let me give you motherfuckers some help:
Uh, here – double XL, double XL
Now your magazine shouldn’t have so much trouble to sell
Ah fuck it, I’ll even buy a couple myself

‘Cause I’m just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
I’m just a regular guy
I don’t know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
Now everybody wanna run their mouth
And try to take shots at me (take shots at me)

Because I’m just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
I’m just a regular guy
I don’t know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
Now everybody wanna run their mouth
And try to take shots at me (take shots at me)