Correction Lyrics Stan (Live from the 43rd Annual Grammy Awards) by Eminem

Featuring(s) : Elton John

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Lyrics

Dear Slim, I wrote you, but you still ain't callin'
I left my cell, my pager and my home phone at the bottom
I sent two letters back in autumn
You must not've got 'em
There probably was a problem at the post office or somethin'
Sometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot 'em
But anyways, f— it, what's been up, man?
How's your daughter?
My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father
If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?
I'ma name her Bonnie
I read about your Uncle Ronnie too, I'm sorry
I had a friend kill himself over some [bitch] who didn't want him
I know you probably hear this every day
But I'm your biggest fan
I even got the underground stuff that you did with Skam
I got a room full of your posters and your pictures, man
I like the stuff you did with Rawkus too, that [shit] was phat
Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back
Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan

My tea's gone cold
I'm wondering why I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window
And I can't see at all
And even if I could it'd all be gray
But your picture on my wall
It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

Dear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote
I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad, I just think it's messed up you don't answer fans
If you didn't want to talk to me outside the concert
You didn't have to
But you could've signed an autograph for Matthew
That's my little brother, man, he's only six years old
We waited in the blisterin' cold for you
For four hours, and you just said no
That's pretty crummy, man, you're like his favorite idol
He wants to be just like you, man, he likes you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like being lied to
Remember when we met in Denver?
You said if I'd write you, you would write back
See, I'm just like you in a way; I never knew my father neither
He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her
I can relate to what you're sayin' in your songs
So when I have a crumby day, I drift away and put 'em on
‘Cause I don't really got [shit] else
So that [shit] helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See, everything you say is real
And I respect you ‘cause you tell it
My girlfriend's jealous ‘cause I talk about you 24/7
But she don't know you like I know you, Slim, no one does
She don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up
You gotta call me, man
I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose, sincerely yours, Stan
P.S. We should be together too

Dear Mr. I'm-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans
This'll be the last package I ever send your ass
It's been six months, and still no word—I don't deserve it?
I know you got my last two letters
I wrote the addresses on 'em perfect
So this is my cassette I'm sendin' you, I hope you hear it
I'm in the car right now, I'm doin' 90 on the freeway
Hey, Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?
You know the song by Phil Collins
"In the Air of the Night," about that guy who could've saved that other guy from drownin'
But didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?
That's kinda how this is
You could've rescued me from drownin'
Now it's too late, I'm on a thousand downers now, I'm drowsy
And all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall
I loved you, Slim, we could've been together
Think about it! You ruined it now
I hope you go to sleep and you dream about it
And when you dream I hope you can't sleep
And you scream about it; I hope your conscience eats at you
And you can't breathe without me
See, Slim—shut up, [bitch!] I'm tryin' to talk
Hey, Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin' in the trunk
But I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up, see, I ain't like you
‘Cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more
And then she'll die too
Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now
Oh shoot, I forgot, how am I supposed to send this tape out?!

Dear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, but I just been busy
You said your girlfriend's pregnant now—how far along is she?
Look, I'm really flattered you would call your daughter that
And here's an autograph
For your brother, I wrote it on a Starter cap
I'm sorry I didn't see you at the show, I must've missed you
Don't think I did that [shit] intentionally just to diss you
But what's this stuff you said about you like to cut your wrists too? I say that stuff just clownin'
Dawg, come on, how messed up is you?
You got some issues, Stan, I think you need some counselin'
To help your ass from bouncin'
Off the walls when you get down some
And what's this junk about us meant to be together?
That type of crap'll make me not want us to meet each other
I really think you and your girlfriend need each other
Or maybe you just need to treat her better
I hope you get to read this letter
I just hope it reaches you in time
Before you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin' just fine
If you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you
But Stan, why are you so mad?
Try to understand that I do want you as a fan
I just don't want you to do some crazy [shit]
I seen this one [shit] on the news
A couple weeks ago that made me sick
Some dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge
And had his girlfriend in the trunk
And she was pregnant with his kid
And in the car they found a tape
But they didn't say who it was to
Come to think about it, his name was… it was you, damn

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