You know I just don't get it Last year I was nobody This year I'm sellin records 

Now everybody wants to come around like I owe em somethin Heh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars? 

Get the fuck out of here 

Chorus : 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 they mouth And try to take shots at me (take shots at me) 

Yo, you might see me joggin, you might see me walkin You might see me walkin a dead rottweiler dog 

With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar Hollerin at him cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin 

Or leanin out a window, with a cocked shotgun Drivin up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in 

Lookin for Big's killers, dressed in 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 

Watchin all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em And get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets 

And amidst all this Crist' poppin and wristwatches I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous 

And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin Startin shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman ("God damn it!") 

I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin With instincts 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 whylin out and bein violent? 

Whatever happened to catchin a good-ol' fashioned Passionate ass-whoopin and gettin 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 screamin, "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 Faggot-2-Dope and Silent Gay Claimin 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 (Ahhh) 

Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck, blaow! Look at y'all runnin your mouth again 

When you ain't seen a fuckin Mile Road, South of 10 And I don't need help, from D-12, 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! 

Chorus : 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 And 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 suin for ten million She must want a dollar for every pill 

I've been stealin 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 you... faggot! 

Talkin about I fabricated my past He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass (uhh!) 

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do? For every million I make, another relative sues 

Family fightin and fussin over who wants to invite me to supper All the 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 Two 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 

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help Uhh here - double XL, double XL 

Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell Ahh fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself 

Chorus