So Far... Lyrics - The Marshall Mathers Lp 2 - Eminem

I own a mansion but live in a house 

A king size bed but I sleep on the couch 

I'm Mister Bright Side, glass is half-full 

But my tanks half-empty, gasket just blew 

This always happens 

Thirty minutes from home gotta lay a log cabin, only option I have's McDonalds' bathroom 

In a public stall droppin' a football so every time someone walks in the John I get Maddened 

"Shady what up", what? come on man I'm crappin' 

And you're askin' for my goddamn autograph on a napkin 

Oh, that's odd I just happened 

To run out of tissue, yeah hand me that on second though I'd be glad then 

"Thanks dog, names Todd a big fan" I 

Wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad threw it back and 

Told 'im "Todd, you're the shit" when's all of this crap end? 

Can't pump my gas without causin' an accident 

Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fuckin' trash 

Without someone passin' through my sub harassin' 

I'd count my blessings but I suck at math 

I'd rather wallow than bask, suffering succotash, but the ant- 

Acid it gives my stomach gas 

When I mix my corn with my fuckin' mashed 

Potatoes, so what hoe kiss my country bumpkin ass 

Missouri southern roots, what the fuck is upper class? 

Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper, Tupperware in the cupboard plastic ware up the ass 

Stuck in the past iPod what the fuck is that? 

B-Boy to the core mule I'm as stubborn as 

Maybe that's why It feels 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 could never turn my back on a city that made me 

And, life's been good to me so far... 

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They call me classless I heard that, I second and third that, don't know what the fuck I'd be doin' if it weren't rap 

Probably be a giant turd sack 

But I blew, never turned back 

Turned forty and still sag, teenagers act more fuckin' mature jack 

Fuck you gonna say to me? I'll leave on my own terms ass 

Hole I'm goin berserk, my nerves are bad 

But I love the perks my work has 

I get to meet famous people look at her, dag 

Her. nylons are ran, her skirts snagged and I heard she drag races swag 

Tuck in my Haynes shirt tag 

You're Danica Patrick (yeah) word 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's all of these buttons you expect me to sit here and learn that? 

Fuck I gotta do ta hear this new song from Luda, be an expert at 

Computers? I'd rather be an Encyclopedia Britannica hell with 

Playstation, I'm still on my first man on some Zelda 

Nintendo bitch! run, jump, punch, stab, and I melt the 

Mozzarella on my spaghetti put it on bread make a sandwich with Welch's 

And belch, they say this spray butter's bad for my health, but 

I think this poor white trash from the trailer 

Jed Clampett, Fred Sanford and welfare, mentality helps ta 

Keep me grounded, that's why I never take full advantage of wealth 

I managed to dwell within these parameters still crammin' the shelves full of Hamburger Helper 

I can't even help it, this is the hand I was dealt a 

Creature of habit, feel like I'm trapped in an animal shelter 

With all these pet peeves, God damn it to hell I 

Can't stand all these kids with their camera cellphones 

I can't go anywhere, I get so mad I could yell the 

Other day someone got all elaborate and stuck a head from a fuckin' dead cat in my mailbox 

Went to Burger King, they spit on my onion rings 

I think my karma's catching up with me 

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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 

I'm tryin' ta be low-key, hopefully nobody notices me 

In produce, hunched over, giant nose bleed 

Ogre style as I mosey over to the frozen aisle, by the frozen yogurt this guy approached me 

Embarrassed, I just did Comerica with Hova the shows over, I'm hidin' in Kroger's buyin' groceries 

He just had front row seats told me, sign his poster then insults me 

"Wow up close didn't know you had crows feet!" 

I'm at a crossroads, lost, still shopping at Costco's 

Sloppy joe's bulk waffles 

Got caught pickin' my nose (aaghh!) look over see these two hot hoes 

Finger still up one of my nostrils 

Right next to 'em, stuck at the light the fuckin' shit's 

Takin' forever to change, it's stuck these bitches are lovin' it 

Rubbin' it in, chucklin' 

Couldn't do nothin' play it off "what you bumpin'?" "Trunk Muzik, Yelawolf's better", fuckin' 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 a 

Nother one after Recovery was so highly coveted 

But what good is a fuckin' Recovery if I fumble it? 

Cause I'm a drop the ball if I don't get a grip, hoppin' out shrubbery on you sons of bitches 

Wrong subdivision 

To fuck with bitch, quit snappin' fuckin' pictures of my kids I love my city 

But you pushed me to the limit what a pity 

The shit I complain about 

It's like there ain't a cloud in the sky, and it's rainin' out 

Kool-Aid stain on the couch, I'll never get it out 

But bitch, I got an elevator in my house, ants and a mouse 

I'm livin' the dream