Rap God
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Intro
"Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings""But I'm only going to get this one chance" (Six minutes—, six minutes—)"Something's wrong, I can feel it" (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on!)"Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know whatIf that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big troubleAnd if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances""You are just what the doc ordered"Chorus
I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap GodAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nodNow, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rap-botVerse 1
But for me to rap like a computer it must be in my genesI got a laptop in my back pocketMy pen'll go off when I half-cock itGot a fat knot from that rap profitMade a livin' and a killin' off itEver since Bill Clinton was still in officeWith Monica Lewinsky feelin' on his nutsackI'm an MC still as honestBut as rude and as indecent as all hellSyllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hopYou don't really wanna get into a pissin' matchWith this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yackAnd at the exact same time, I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicin' thatI'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' tableOver the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in halfOnly realized it was ironic, I was signed to Aftermath after the factHow could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombsFeel my wrath of attackRappers are havin' a rough time period, here's a maxi padIt's actually disastrously bad for the wackWhile I'm masterfully constructing this masterpièceChorus
'Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap GodAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nodNow, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?Let me show you maintainin' this shit ain't that hard, that hardEverybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have gotVerse 2
Well, to be truthful the blueprint'sSimply rage and youthful exuberanceEverybody loves to root for a nuisanceHit the Earth like an asteroidDid nothing but shoot for the Moon since (Pew!)MCs get taken to school with this music'Cause I use it as a vehicle to "bus the rhyme"Now I lead a new school full of studentsMe? I'm a product of RakimLakim Shabazz, 2Pac, N.W.A, Cube, hey Doc, RenYella, Eazy, thank you, they got SlimInspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a positionTo meet Run-D.M.C., induct themInto the motherfuckin' Rock and Roll Hall of FameEven though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flamesOnly Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fameOn the wall of shameYou fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flamesOff a plank and, tell me what in the fuck are you thinkin'?Little gay-lookin' boySo gay I can barely say it with a straight face, lookin' boy (Ha-ha!)You're witnessin' a mass-occurLike you're watching a church gathering take place, lookin' boy"Oy vey, that boy's gay!"—that's all they say, lookin' boyYou get a thumbs up, pat on the backAnd a "way to go" from your label every day, lookin' boyHey, lookin' boy! What you say, lookin' boy?I get a "hell yeah" from Dre, lookin' boyI'ma work for everything I have, never asked nobody for shitGet outta my face, lookin' boy!Basically, boy, you're never gonna be capableOf keepin' up with the same pace, lookin' boy, 'cause—Chorus
I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap GodAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nodThe way I'm racin' around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCARDale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash GodKneel before General ZodThis planet's Krypton—no, Asgard, AsgardVerse 3
So you'll be Thor and I'll be OdinYou rodent, I'm omnipotentLet off, then I'm reloadin'Immediately with these bombs I'm totin'And I should not be wokenI'm the walkin' dead, but I'm just a talkin' head, a zombie floatin'But I got your mom deep-throatin'I'm out my Ramen NoodleWe have nothin' in common, poodleI'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupilIt's me, my honesty's brutalBut it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do thoughFor good at least once in a whileSo I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle enough rhymesTo maybe try to help get some people through tough timesBut I gotta keep a few punchlinesJust in case 'cause even you unsignedRappers are hungry lookin' at me like it's lunchtimeI know there was a time where once IWas king of the undergroundBut I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grindSo I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combineAppeal with the skin color of mineYou get too big and here they come tryin'To censor you like that one lineI said on "I'm Back" from The Mathers LP 1 when ITried to say I'll take seven kids from ColumbinePut 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a 9See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'mMorphin' into an immortal, comin' through the portalYou're stuck in a time warp from 2004 thoughAnd I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme forYou're pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin' cornrowsYou write normal? Fuck being normal!And I just bought a new raygun from the futureJust to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's padSingin' to a man while he played pianoMan, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channelSo Ray J went straight to the radio stationThe very next day, "Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!"Lyrics comin' at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assumin' I'm a humanWhat I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhumanInnovative and I'm made of rubber so that anything you say is ricochetin' off of me and it'll glue to you andI'm devastating, more than ever demonstratingHow to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitatingNever fading, and I know the haters are forever waitingFor the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivatedI make elevating music, you make elevator music"Oh, he's too mainstream."Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it"It's not hip-hop, it's pop,"—'cause I found a hella way to fuse itWith rock, shock rap with DocThrow on "Lose Yourself" and make 'em lose it"I don't know how to make songs like thatI don't know what words to use."Let me know when it occurs to youWhile I'm rippin' any one of these verses that versus youIt's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' youHow many verses I gotta murder toProve that if you were half as nice, your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?!Ugh, school flunky, pill junkieBut look at the accolades these skills brung meFull of myself, but still hungryI bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind toAnd I'm a million leagues above youIll when I speak in tongues, but it's still tongue-in-cheek, fuck youI'm drunk, so, Satan, take the fucking wheelI'ma sleep in the front seatBumpin' Heavy D and the Boyz, still "Chunky but Funky"But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and strugglingAngels fight with devils and here's what they want from meThey're askin' me to eliminate some of the women hateBut if you take into consideration the bitter hatredI have, then you may be a little patientAnd more sympathetic to the situationAnd understand the discriminationBut fuck it, life's handin' you lemons? Make lemonade then!But if I can't batter the womenHow the fuck am I supposed to bake 'em a cake then?Don't mistake him for SatanIt's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas and take a vacationTo trip a broad, and make her fall on her face andDon't be a retard—be a king? Think notWhy be a king when you can be a god?What the song means
"Rap God" is a self-congratulatory, high-speed showcase of Eminem's rapping skill. The track opens with a mock-serious intro that builds suspense, then the chorus declares that he is starting to feel like a "Rap God," a claim that his fans and rivals will both recognize as hyperbole. The verses pile up technical boasts, namedrops of hip-hop influences such as Rakim and 2Pac, and jabs at critics who call his flow robotic or who doubt his authenticity. The mood moves from playful to frantic and chaotic, with rapid wordplay, sudden tonal shifts and self-mocking asides.
The final section escalates into surreal, superhero-like imagery, comparing himself to Thor, Odin and a god from another world, and it ends with the line that a god outranks a king. This ending turns the whole performance into a claim of total dominance. Key images such as the "Rap-bot" and the laptop in his pocket present him as a machine-like technician, while the contrast between "elevating music" and "elevator music" argues that his work is ambitious rather than bland.
The song is deliberately crude and includes offensive and homophobic language that many listeners find hard to accept, so its humor and aggression are best understood as part of a provocative persona rather than as a straightforward message.
Key phrases explained
- slap box
- a playful slapping fight — Used in the chorus as a playful challenge to show off his reach and speed.
- Rap-bot
- a robotic rapper — A nickname drawn from critics who say his flow sounds mechanical.
- bananas
- crazy, unpredictable — From the intro, describing a rival whose behavior seems wild and dangerous.
- Ramen Noodle
- cheap instant noodles — A reference to his lean early years, when he survived on the cheapest food.
- elevator music
- bland background music — Contrasts with his "elevating" music, mocking imitators who make forgettable songs.
- Make lemonade
- turn a bad situation into something good — A proverb used sarcastically in a passage about criticism and grievance.
Song info
- Release date
- 2013-10-14
- Album
- The Marshall Mathers LP 2
- Written by
- Eminem, DVLP, Filthy, Doug E. Fresh, Slick Rick, MC JB
- Produced by
- DVLP, Filthy
- Samples
- Eminem – Fubba U Cubba Cubba (Freestyle), The Hollywood Edge Sound Effects Library – Winchester Rifle Cocked, Hotstylz – Lookin’ Boy
- Interpolates
- Eminem – 8 Mile: 313 Cypher (Chin Tiki Girls), Big Pun – Pakinamac Pt. II (Skit), Eminem – I’m Back
- Remix of
- Autumn Trauma – Hustle Hard (Remix)
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