🎤 Will Smith Drops SHOCK DISS TRACK on Himself, Jada & the Oscars Slap?! You Won’t Believe These Lyrics 😱🔥

On the third anniversary of that night—the one that saw Will Smith walk onstage at the Oscars and smack Chris Rock in front of millions—he’s done the unthinkable: he’s turned the fallout into bars.

After two decades without a studio album, Will just dropped Based on a True Story, and fans are spiraling over its opening track, “Interior Barbershop”.

Why? Because this isn’t just music—it’s a lyrical mirror.

And what’s staring back is messy, unfiltered, and borderline genius.

The track opens like a skit in a barbershop, with multiple characters (all voiced by Will) roasting… Will.

It’s surreal.

“Will Smith is canceled,” one voice says.

“Who the F does Will Smith think he is?” chimes another.

From mocking his parenting, his film career, and yes—his slap—Smith unleashes a self-drag so brutal, it’s hard not to laugh… and cringe.

The lines come fast and vicious.

“He raising them kids crazy.

” “He walk around like he invincible.

” “He ain’t been hot since Bad Boys.

” Ouch.

But the song isn’t just mindless self-hate.

It’s satire with a purpose.

The whole scene plays out like the conversations we’ve all had—or seen—on social media over the past three years.

Will’s tapping into the collective commentary, quoting it, performing it, and ultimately flipping it.

He doesn’t shy away from the elephant in the room, either.

“He won the Oscar but had to give it back.

” And in the same breath? “They only made him do that shhh because he’s Black.

” That’s the layered energy this whole track delivers—equal parts confession and confrontation.

The final twist? Will walks into the fictional barbershop, and all the same people trashing him scramble to shake his hand and offer him a seat.

It’s a clear jab at the fickle nature of public opinion.

The very same crowd that tears you down would still snap a selfie if you walked through the door.

But the self-roasting doesn’t end there.

The album as a whole is drenched in therapy-speak, regret, trauma unpacking, and broken pride.

In “Why Does My Ego Keep Holding Me Ransom”, he raps: “Life got ugly but F it, I’m handsome.

” In another line: “I took my traumas and made it an anthem.

” It’s both self-aware and self-pitying—delivering clever lines wrapped in wounds that still seem fresh.

And just when you think he’s done dancing around the real issue—he hits you with “Mind your business.

It’s complicated,” a nod to the now-infamous “entanglement” saga with Jada Pinkett Smith.

Yeah, he went there, too.

But not everyone’s impressed.

Critics say it’s too late.

That no matter how self-aware his lyrics are, the damage he did—especially to Chris Rock—can’t be erased with a clever rhyme.

After all, Rock took his hit in silence, declined to press charges, and only addressed it in his own comedy special months later.

And that wasn’t full of forgiveness either.

The question now becomes: Is this Will Smith’s redemption arc or his last-ditch effort to win back a public that’s still divided? After all, the album comes across less like a flex and more like a therapy journal set to

a beat.

It’s full of apologies he never quite says directly, ego checks that still boast a little too hard, and reminders of his greatness in the middle of his mess.

It also highlights something Will’s always done better than most: read the room and play both sides.

From Fresh Prince to Bad Boys, Will’s always been the guy who could walk the line between relatability and larger-than-life charisma.

But now that the public has seen the cracks—now that he’s shown us the rage behind the smile—is there a path back to the top?

What makes this diss track so fascinating isn’t that he goes after Chris Rock (he doesn’t).

It’s that he dares to clown himself.

Most celebrities run from shame.

Will walks into it with the mic hot and lets it rip.

Whether it’s ego, brilliance, or desperation—it’s working.

People are listening.

Fans are split.

Some are applauding him for finally facing the fire head-on, using his art to dissect his downfall.

Others think it’s performative damage control disguised as creativity.

One Twitter user wrote, “Will Smith dissing himself to get us to forgive him is so peak 2024.

” Another said, “This is the smartest move he could’ve made… no one can cancel you if you cancel yourself first.”

In a way, Interior Barbershop is a masterclass in narrative control.

Will Smith just beat the internet at its own game—he memed himself before anyone else could.

And in doing so, he might’ve reopened the conversation on forgiveness, second chances, and whether redemption is possible after very public failure.

What’s next? Probably more music, more interviews, maybe a Bad Boys promo run (because yes, the franchise is still alive).

But no matter what happens from here, one thing’s certain: Will Smith isn’t hiding anymore.

He’s rapping through the pain, laughing at the fall, and daring everyone to join him in the discomfort.

Whether you vibe with the message or not, one thing’s for sure: this wasn’t just another comeback.

It was a calculated, comedic, chaotic, and kind of brilliant confession in the form of a diss track.

And the only person he dissed harder than himself… might be you, for still talking about him three years later.