In my mind, I’m a fighter, my heart’s a lighter
My soul is the fluid, my flow sparks it right up
An arsenic writer, author with arth-r-itis
Carpal tunnel, Marshall with Start-Shit-Itis
Hardheaded and hotheaded, bullheaded and pigheaded
Dick-headed, a prick, a big headache
I’m sick, quick-witted; for every lyric spitted
There are six critics who wait for me to slip with it
So, quick—this dynamite stick, bury the wick
It’s gonna explode any minute
Some lunatic lit it
And it’s not Nelly, do not tell me to stop yelling
When I stop selling, I’ll quit, so stop dwelling!
I am not failing, you fuckers are not ready
‘Cause I got jelly, like Beyoncé’s potbelly
This is destiny; yes, money, I’m off running
So get off of me, I’m not slowing or softening

No apologies! Nah, suckers, I’m not sorry
You can all sue me, y’all could be the cause of me
No apologies! Y’all feeling the force of me
No remorse for me, like there was no recourse for me
Nah, no apologies! Not even acknowledging you at all
‘Til I get a call that God’s coming
No apologies! Laugh, fuckers, it’s all funny
I can spit in your face while you’re standing across from me
No apologies!

My head hits the pillow, a weeping willow
I can’t sleep, a pain so deep, it bellows
But these cellos help just to keep me mellow
Hands on my head, touch knees to elbows
I’m hunched over, emotion just flows over
These cold shoulders are both frozen, you don’t know me
I keep saying it, I can’t stress it enough
So keep playing it, and stand next to the subs
I choke mics like asphyxiation
When I’m strangling my own throat masturbating, haha!
Fuck, yeah, I’m a basket case
And I’ll master this rap shit ’til my ass gets wasted
‘Til my assassination
‘Til I’m slain because of some fag’s infatuation
.44 mag’s a fascination
A taste for disaster, and if that’s the case, then—

No apologies! Nah, suckers, I’m not sorry
You can all sue me, y’all could be the cause of me
No apologies! Y’all feeling the force of me
No remorse for me, like there was no recourse for me
Nah, no apologies! Not even acknowledging you at all
‘Til I get a call that God’s coming
No apologies! Laugh, fuckers, it’s all funny
I can spit in your face while you’re standing across from me
No apologies!

This song isn’t for you, it’s for me
A true MC, it’s what he’ll do just to see
If he still has it and if his skills mastered
He’s able to spill raps long after he’s killed, that’s a—
Real MC, got you feelin’ me
Whether willing or unwillingly, you still agree
As long as there’s still this hunger and will in me
Then expect a longer life expectancy
I’d be a savage beast if I ain’t had this
Outlet to salvage me inside
I’d be exploding, soaked in self-loathing
And mourning, so I’m warning you: don’t coax me
It’s silly, I’m really a sheep in wolf’s clothing
Who only reacts when he gets pushed, don’t be—
Fooled; the press blows up this whole thing
It’s stupid, they don’t know, ’cause they don’t see
That I’m wounded, all they did was ballooned it
I’m sick of talking ’bout these tattoos Cartoon did
That’s why I tuned it out, I’m sick of duking
They can suck my dick while I’m puking
And you, too, you can—

Expect no sympathy from me
I’m an MC, this is how I’m supposed to be
Cold as a G, my heart’s frozen
It don’t even beat, so expect no apologies
Expect no sympathy from me
I’m an MC, this is how I’m supposed to be
Cold as a G, my heart’s frozen
It don’t even beat, so expect no apologies