Þetta er nýtt lag með Eminem og er af disknum The Re-Up. Mjög gott lag að mínu mati.
Eminem er mest kærði rappari frá upphafi og fjallar þetta um það og að hann biðjist ekki afsökunar á neinu sem hann hefur gert og sagt í lögunum sínum (held ég sé að fara með rétt mál).
Getið checkað á þessu lagi hérna: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImlcPnzLAuc

Hérna er svo textinn.

Verse 1:

In my mind I'm a fighter, my heart's a lighter.
My soul is the fluid, my flow sparks it right up.
An arsenic writer, author with arthritis
carpal tunnel, Marshall with start shit-itis
hardheaded and hotheaded
bullheaded and pigheaded
dick-headed, a prick, a big headache
I'm sick, quick-witted for every lyric spitted
there are six critics who wait for me to slip with it
so quick this dynamite stick
bury the wick its gonna explode
any minute some lunatic lit it and it's not Nelly
do not tell me to stop yelling, when I stop selling I'll quit so
stop dwelling, I am not failing
you fuckers are not ready
cause I got jelly like Beyonce's pot belly
this is destiny, yes money
I'm off runnning so get off of me
I'm not slowing or softening.

Chorus:

No apologies
naw suckers I'm not sorry you can all sue me
ya''ll could be the cause of me
no apologies
y'all feelin' the force of me
no remorse from me
like there was no recourse for me
no apologies
I'm not even acknowledging you at all
till I get a call that God's coming
no apologies
laugh fuckers it's all funny
I could spit in your face while your standing across from me
no apologies.

Verse 2:

My head hits the pillow, a weepin' willow
I can't sleep, a pain so deep it bellows
but these cellos help just to keep me mellow
hands on my head, touch knees to elbows
I'm hunched over emotion just flows over
these cold shoulders are both frozen, you don't know me
I keep sayin' it. I cant stress it enough
so keep playin' it and stand next to the subs
I choke mics like asphyxiation
while I'm strangling my own throat masturbatin' (haha)
fuck yeah I'm a basketcase and I master this rap shit til' my ass gets wasted.
til' my assassination, til' I'm slain cause of some fag's infatuation
44 mag, a fascination, a taste for disaster and if thats the case then.

Chorus.

No apologies
naw suckers I'm not sorry you can all sue me
ya''ll could be the cause of me
no apologies
y'all feelin' the force of me
no remorse from me
like there was no recourse for me
no apologies
I'm not even acknowledging you at all
till I get a call that God's coming
no apologies
laugh fuckers it's all funny
I could spit in your face while your standing across from me
no apologies.

Verse 3:

This song isn't for you it's for me, A true MC
it's what I do just to see if he still has it and if his skills mastered
he's able to spill raps long after he's killed
that's a, real MC, got you feelin' me
whether willing or unwillingly you still agree
As long as there's still this hunger and will in me
Then expect the longer life expectancy
I'd be a savage beast if I ain't have this outlet to salvage me inside
I'd be exploding soaked in self loathing and mourning
So I’m warning you don’t coax me its silly
I'm really a sheep in wolf's clothing
who only reacts when he gets pushed don't be
fooled the press blows up this whole thing
it's stupid, they don't know cause they don't see
that I'm wounded all they did was ballooned it
I'm sick of talking bout these tattoos Cartoon did
thats why i tuned it out, I'm sick of dukin'
and they can suck my dick while I'm pukin'
and you too you can expect no sympathy from me
I'm an MC, this is how I'm supposed to be
cold as a G my hearts frozen, it don't even beat
so expect no apologies
expect no sympathy from me
I'm an MC, this is how I'm supposed to be
cold as a G, my hearts frozen it don't even beat
so expect no apologies.