I own a mansion, but live in a house
A king-size bed, but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half full
But my tank is half empty, gasket just blew

This always happens, thirty minutes from home
Gotta lay a log cabin, only option I have is McDonald's bathroom
In a public stall, dropping a football
So every time someone walks in the john I get Madden
"Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crapping
And you're asking me 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 thought I'd be glad then
"Thanks, dawg, name's Todd, a big fan"
I wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad and threw it back and
Told him, "Todd, you're the shit" when's all of this crap end?
Can't pump my gas without causing an accident
Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fucking trash
Without someone passing through my sub', harassing
I'd count my blessings, but I suck at math
I'd rather wallow than bask, sufferin' succotash
But the antacid, it gives my stomach gas
When I mix my corn with my fucking mashed
Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin ass
Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is upper-class?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the ass
Stuck in the past, iPod, what the fuck is that?
B-boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass

Maybe that's why I feel 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 can never turn my back on a city that made me and
(Life's been good to me so far)

They call me classless, I heard that, I second and third that
Don't know what the fuck I'd doing 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 fucking mature, Jack
Fuck you gonna say to me?
I leave on my own terms, asshole, I'm going berzerk
My nerves are bad, but I love the perks my work has
I get to meet famous people, look at her, dag
Her nylons ran, her skirt's snagged
And I heard she drag-races, swag
Tuck in my Hanes shirt tag
You're Danica Patrick (yeah) work, 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 is all of these buttons?
You expect me to sit here and learn that?
Fuck I gotta do to hear this new song from Luda?
Be an expert at computers?
I'd rather be an encyclopedia Britannica, hell with a Playstation
I'm still on my first man on some from Zelda
Nintendo, bitch, run, jump, punch, stab and I melt the
Mozzarella on my spaghetti, put in 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 to
Keep me grounded, that's why I never take full advantage of wealth, I
Managed to dwell within these parameters
Still cramming 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
Goddammit 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 elaborant
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 is catching up with me

Maybe that's why I feel 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 can never turn my back on a city that made me and
(Life's been good to me so far)

Got friends on Facebook, all over the world
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 trying to be lowkey, hopefully nobody notices me
In produce hunched over, giant nosebleed
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 show's over, I'm hiding in Kroeger buying groceries
He just had front-row seats, told me to sign this poster
Then insults me, "Wow, up close didn't know you had crow's feet"
I'm at a crossroads, lost, still shopping at Costco
Sloppy Joe's, bulk waffles
Got caught picking my nose, ah
Look over see these two hot hoes
Finger still up one of my nostrils
Right next to 'em stuck at the light
The fucking shit's taking forever to change
It's stuck, these bitches are loving it, rubbing it in
Chuckling, couldn't do nothing, play it off
"What you bumping? Trunk Muzik? Yelawolf's better," fucking 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 another one after Recovery
Was so highly coveted, but what good is a fucking recovery if I fumble it?
'Cause I'ma drop the ball if I don't get a grip
Hopping on shrubbery on you sons of bitches
Wrong subdivision to fuck with, bitch
Quit snapping fucking pictures of my kids
I love my city, but you push 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 raining 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 living the dream

Maybe that's why I feel 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 can never turn my back on a city that made me and
(Life's been good to me so far)

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Spirit Music Group, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Jesse Bonds Jr Weaver, Joe Fidler Walsh, Marshall B. Mathers