[Eminem talkin'] Its all bad now man, its all bad But yal done fucked up now Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo I just want the whole world to know: That I did not start this, but I will finish it [Verse] Comin up it never mattered was color you was If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was Back when, motherf*ckers was straight back packin Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column at The Source was like, the only source of light When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like you were the ****, now its like the least you get three and a half now just means you a peice of **** four and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas, or Benzino I dont think you even realize you playin with motherf*ckers lives, I dont watched Dre get ****ed on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it Now you f*cked me outa my mics twice I let it slide I said I wouldnt hold my f*cken breathto get a five Sh*t I was right, Ida f*ckin died already tryin I swear to God I never lie I bet thats why you let that b*tch give me that bullsh*t review I sat and took it, I aint look at the sh*t we knew You'd probly try to f*ck us with Obie and 50 too F*ck a relationship we through No more Source with street cred, them days is dead Dre's got A-Ks to dave mase's head Every issue there's an eight page Made-Mens spread Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head That I am not afraid, hes just a f*ckin waste of lead on my pencil, for me to write some sh*t this simple So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed This old Gs bout to get smoked like raw weed You dont know me or my motherf*ckin mother you motherf*ckin punk Put me on your motherf*ckin cover to sell your little sell out mag I aint mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad You wanna talk about some sh*t that you dont know about? ya Lets talk about how your puttin you own son out there To try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat Your never gonna float b*tch your just too old No wonder your sore now ?? your bored now Im pushin thirty your kickin fourty's door down B*tch this is war now, and youl never beat me all you do is cheat me out of quatables but you know that youl always see me on your TV Cuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin To see your video played once on BET So he-he-he who gets the last laugh? Aftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back Just know that Benzinos wack no matter how many times I say his name, hell never blow jack Your better off tryin to bring R-S-O back Look at your track record thats how far it goes back Its extortion ?? proportion so half of the staff up there is fresh outa jail from boston Bullyin and bossin, caged like a slave they've completely brainwashed him And forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest fakest, wannabe gangster in New York And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda said sh*t to you if you'd kept your mouth shut B*tch now what? get a clue, spit it slay New sh*t, exclusive ?? whoo kid You know what to do with this: use it Im through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this bullsh*t to do this... And who you callin a b*tch? B*tch. You owe me.