Hey, Em, it’s Paul
Uh, I was listening to the album
Good fucking luck, you’re on your own
Guess who’s back, back again?
Shady’s back, tell a friend
Guess who’s back, back again?
Shady’s back, tell a friend
Guess who’s back, back again?
Shady’s back, tell a friend
Guess who’s back? Guess who’s back?
Guess who’s back? Guess who’s back?
Guess who’s back? Guess who’s back?
Guess who’s back? (Haha)
Da-da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da
Da-da-da-da
Well, look what the stork brung (what?)
Little baby devil with the forked tongue (huh)
And it’s stickin’ out, yeah, like a sore thumb (bleh)
With a forehead that it grew horns from (look)
Still a white jerk (it’s him)
Pullin’ up in a Chrysler to the cypher
With the Vics, Percs and a Bud Light shirt
Lyrical technician (yeah), an electrician (yeah)
Y’all light work (haha)
And I don’t gotta play pretend, it’s you I make believe (what?)
And you know I’m here to stay ‘cause me (why?)
If I was to ever take a leave (what?)
It would be aspirin’ to break a feve’ (yeah)
If I was to ask for Megan Thee (what?)
Stallion if she would collab with me
Would I really have a shot at a feat? (Haha)
I don’t know, but I’m glad to be back like
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick)
I’m ‘bout to reach in my bag, bruh (like)
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick, poof)
Just like that and I’m back, bro
Now, back in the days of old me (when?)
Right around the time I became a dope fiend (oh)
Ate some codeine as a way of copin’, taste of opiates (mmm)
Case of OE turned me into smiley face emoji (woo)
My shit may not be age-appropriate
But I will hit an eight-year-old in the face with a participation trophy (ooh)
‘Cause I have zero doubts
That this whole world’s ‘bout
To turn into some girl scouts
That censorship bureau’s out to (shut me down)
So when I started this verse (yeah), it did start off lighthearted at first
But it feels like I’m targeted, mind-bogglin’ how my profit has skyrocketed
Look what I pocketed, yeah, the shit is just like y’all had been light joggin’
And I’ve been runnin’ at full speed and that’s why I’m ahead like my noggin’
And I’m the fight y’all get in when you debate who the best, but opps, I’m white chalkin’
When I step up to that mic, cock it then: Oh my God, it’s him! Not again!
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick)
I’m ‘bout to reach in my bag, bruh (like)
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick, poof)
Just like that and I’m back, bro (break it down)
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick)
I’m ‘bout to reach in my bag, bruh (like)
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick, poof)
Just like that and I’m back, bro (break it down)
Sometimes I wonder what the old me’d say (if what?)
If he could see the way shit is today (look at this shit, man)
He’d probably say that everything is gay (like, happy)
What’s my name? What’s my name? (Slim Shady)
So how many little kids still wanna act like me? (Haha)
I’m a bigger prick than cacti be (yeah)
And that’s why these (what?)
Words sting just like you were bein’ attacked by bees (bzz)
In the coupe, leanin’ back my seat (what?)
Bumpin’ R. Kelly’s favorite group (uh), the Black Guy (Guy) Pees (haha, Pees)
In my Air Max 90s, white Ts, walkin’ Parental Advisory
My transgender cat’s Siamese (why?)
Identifies as Black, but acts Chinese (haha)
Like a motherfuckin’ Hacky Sack, I treat (what?)
The whole world ‘cause I got it at my feet (yeah)
How can I explain to you (what?)
That even myself I’m a danger to? (Yeah)
I hop on tracks like a kangaroo
And say a few things or two to anger you
But fuck that, if I think that shit, I’ma say that shit
Cancel me, what? Okay, that’s it
Go ahead, Paul, quit, snake-ass prick
You male cross-dresser (haha), fake-ass bitch
And I’ll probably get shit for that (watch)
But you can all suck my dick, in fact
Fuck them, fuck Dre, fuck Jimmy, fuck me, fuck you
Fuck my own kids, they’re brats (fuck ‘em)
They can screw off (yeah), them and you all (uh)
You too, Paul (punk), got two balls big as RuPaul’s (woah)
What you thought you saw ain’t what you saw (nah)
‘Cause you’re never gon’ see me
Caught sleepin’ and, see, the kidnappin’ never did happen (no)
Like Sherri Papini, Harry Houdini
I vanish into the thin air as I’m leavin’ like
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick)
I’m ‘bout to reach in my bag, bruh (like)
Abra’, abracadabra (and for my last trick, poof)
Just like that and I’m back, bro
