So Far
[Intro]
I own a mansion, but live in a house
A king-size bed, but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half full
But my tank is half empty, gas kit just blew
[Verse 1]
This always happens, 30 minutes from home
Gotta lay a long cable
and only option I have is McDonald's bathroom
In a public stall dropping a football
So every time someone walks in the john like at Madden
''Shady, what up? ''- What? Come on, man, I'm crapping
And you're asking me for my godamn autograph on a napkin?
Oh, that's odd, I just happened to run out of tissue
Yeah, hand me that, on second thought I'd be glad then
''Thanks, dawg, name's Todd, a big fan''
I wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up [?] back and
Told him ''Todd, you're the shit''
when does all of this crap end?
Can't park my [?] without causing an accident
Puff my gas, cut my grass, can't take out the fucking trash
Without someone passing through my sub harassing
I'd count my blessings, but I suck at math
I'd rather wallow then bass suffering from succotash
But the [?] is my stomach as
I mix my corn with my fucking mash
Potato, so what, ho, kiss my country bucking ass
Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is up with glass?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper
Tupperware in a covered plastic wear up the ass
Stuck in the past, iPod, what the fuck is that?
B-boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass
[Hook]
Maybe that's why I feel so strange
Got it all, but I still won't change
Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit
It's the motivation that keeps me going
This is the inspiration I need
I can never turn my back on a city that made me
(Life's been good to me so far)
[Verse 2]
They call me [?] , I heard that, I second and third that
Don't know what the fuck I would doing if it weren't rap
Probably be a giant turd-sack
But I blew, never turned back
Turned 40 and still sag
Teenagers act more fucking mature, Jack
Fuck you gonna say to me?
I live on my own terms, asshole, I'm going berzerk
My nerves are bad, but I love the perks my work has
I get to meet famous people, look at her, dad
Her eyeliners ran, her skirt snag
And I heard she drag-races, burp* swag
Fucking my Hanes shirt tag
You're Danica Patrick (yeah) work, skag
We'd be the perfect match
Cause you're a vacuum, I'm a dirtbag
My apologies, no disrespect to technology
But what the heck is all of these buttons?
You expect me to sit here and learn that?
Fuck I gotta do to hear this new song from Luda?
Be and expert at computers?
I'd rather be an encyclopedia [?] Playstation
I'm still on my first manual from Zelda
Nintendo, bitch, run, jump, punch, stab and I melt the
Mozzarella on my spaghetti, put in on bread
Make a sandwich with [?] and belts
They say it's [?] , but it's bad for my health
But I think there's more white trash from the trailer
[?] welfare mentality helps to keep me grounded
that's why I never take full advantage of wealth
I Managed to dwell within these perimeters
still cramming the shells full of hamburger helper
I can't even help it, this is the hand I was dealt to
[?] a habit, feel like I'm trapped in an animal shelter
With all these pet peeves
Got dammit to hell
I can't stand all these kids with their camera cellphones
I can't go anywhere, I get so mad I can yell the
Other day someone got little elaborate
and stuck a fucking dead cat in my mailbox
Went to Burger King, they spit on my onion rings
I think my karma is catching up with me
[Hook]
Maybe that's why I feel so strange
Got it all, but I still won't change
Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit
It's the motivation that keeps me going
This is the inspiration I need
I can never turn my back on a city that made me
(Life's been good to me so far)
[Bridge]
Got friends on facebook, all over the world
Not sure what that means, they tell me it's good
So I'm artist of the decade, I even got a plaque
I'd hang it up, but the frame is all cracked
[Verse 3]
Trying to be lowkey, hopefully nobody notices me
[?] got punched over, giant nosebleed
As I mosey over to the frozen isle
By the frozen yogurt this guy approached me
Embarrassed, I just did [?] America with Hova
Show's over, I'm hiding in [?] buying groceries
He had front row seats, told me to sign this poster
Then insults me ''wow, up close
didn't know you had gross feet''
Still shopping at Costco
Sloppy Joe's, buck waffles
Got caught picking my nose, ah
Look over see these two hot hoes
Finger still stuck up in one of my nostrils
Right next to him stuck at the light
This fucking shit is taking forever to change
I'm stuck, these bitches are loving it rubbing it in
Couldn't do nothing, play it off
''What you bumping? Trunk Muzik? Yelawolf's better''
fucking bitch
They want me to flip at the label, but I won't succumb to it
The pressure, they want me to follow up
with another one after Recovery
So highly coveted, but what good is a fucking recovery
if I fumble it?
Cause I'mma drop the ball if I don't get to quit
On you sons of bitches
Quit snapping pictures of my fucking kids
I love my [?] , but you push me to my limit, what a pity
The shit I complain about
It's like there ain't a cloud in the sky and it's raining out
Kool Aid stain on the couch, I'd never get it out
Bitch, I got an elevator in my house
[?] I'm living the dream
[Hook]
Compositores: Joseph Fidler Walsh (Joe Walsh), Jesse Bonds Weaver Jr (Schoolly D), Marshall B Mathers Iii (Eminem)
ECAD: Obra #10846907 Fonograma #5985853