“When I listen to my music and all other artists, I kind of cringe when I hear myself,” says Conway the Machine, gazing upon the glass liquor cases labeled with names of hip-hop legends inside New York City’s Jue Lan Restaurant. “I want to lead; I want people to have something to follow.”

Griselda Records’ lyrical heavyweight has been rapping about the perils of street life ever since he made his official debut with his 2015 mixtape The Devil’s Reject. The rapper made a career out of crafting dope dealer rhymes and ironclad metaphors that are as vicious as the Buffalo streets he calls home. Still, on his latest album, God Don’t Make Mistakes, which dropped last Friday (Feb. 25), Conway begins to tell the other side of his story—the one that involves emotion and real pain.

God Don’t Make Mistakes – his first official album under Eminem’s Shady Records — is business as usual for Conway; he dishes out his trademark “spooky” bars on tracks like “Lock On,” “Tear Gas” and “Piano Love.” However, there’s a change in pace when Conway peels back the layers and puts himself in an uncomfortable position, sharing personal stories about the deaths of his son and cousin, bouts with alcoholism, being abused at 10 months old, and more.

“I gained a lot of new fans, but I wanted this album to be an introduction to me,” Conway said in between puffs of his cigar-sized blunt. “I know with my music, I talk about s–t I’ve seen and how we live in the hood — but I feel I needed to talk about myself more on this album, and that was tough for me. I’m usually more bottled up and keep my personal stuff and shortcomings in life to myself personally, but this was the album for me to do that.”

On “Guilty,” Conway delves deep into one of the toughest situations in his life — the Bell’s Palsy diagnosis that left the right side of his face permanently paralyzed after being shot in the head in 2012. It’s hard not to notice the condition, especially when Conway raps or engages in conversation, but it’s also part of what makes him unique. From his image to his heroic recovery story to the disability itself, Conway views his paralysis as a gift instead of a curse, and it took him a while to see that.

“Something I ask myself every night since I been in this s–t, honestly — ‘Would I be popular if the shooting never happened?’” Conway reflects. “It f–ks with me mentally, like, ‘They only f–k with me because of this?’ But I understand the story brings attention, and I had to come to grips with the story being the illest shit I could write. I went through all of that to get here.”

If there was a moment that told Conway getting shot in the back of the head indeed wasn’t a mistake, it would be the time he met Jay-Z in person. The Brooklyn rap legend took a liking to the Griselda crew, and Conway found himself developing a friendship with Hov that not many could even think of doing.

Meeting Jay-Z was just the tip of the iceberg, though, as other opportunities presented themselves to Conway, like running his very own label, Drumwork Music Group. According to Conway, everything is happening exactly how God planned it out to be.

“I’m where I’m supposed to be at this particular juncture in my life. I’m doing everything I set out to do; I’m living out my dreams,” Conway says. “All my situations opened my heart. I be on a whole different type of time now, and I’m a whole different type of person than I was before I got shot.”

Although he’s showing a new side of himself, Conway still struggles with his past a bit, which he makes very clear on God Don’t Make Mistakes. For example, the death of his son is something he isn’t really sure he’s dealt with thoroughly.

“I never really took the time to deal with it, honestly. I kind of like compartmentalized it and just kept focusing on trying to become Conway the Machine,” the 40-year-old admits. “I did that with a lot of stuff in my life to the point that I see that’s not good anymore. You have to deal with things.”

Thankfully, Conway is discovering new methods in dealing with his demons, and one of those ways is exploring therapy. The recording process for God Don’t Make Mistakes helped Conway bring his issues to light, and he’s using his platform to inspire others to do the same.

“If I’m on a song talking about all this killing and shooting, what good am I? I’m in a space I can use my platform for more than just speaking to s–t I come from that I’m not even doing anymore. I evolved, and I just want to change the message.”