''You could try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay 'em
But you won't take the sting out these words before I say 'em
Cause ain't no way I'ma let you stop me from causin' mayhem
When I say 'em or do something I do it, I don't give a damn
what you think, I'm doing this for me, so fuck the world
Feed it beans, it's gassed up, if it thinks it's stopping me
I'ma be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedly
And all those who look down on me I'm tearing down your balcony
No if ands or buts, don't try to ask him why or how can he
From "Infinite" down to the last "Relapse" album
he's still shitting, whether he's on salary paid hourly
Until he bows out or he shits his bowels out of him
Whichever comes first, for better or worse
He's married to the game, like a fuck you for Christmas
His gift is a curse, forget the Earth, he's got the urge
to pull his dick from the dirt, and fuck the whole universe.''