Im Asleep at the Wheel Again Eminem
Lucky Yous
Joyner Lucas, Eminem
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Whoa, Joyner, Joyner, aye, aye, yeah Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit it I don't take back what I say, if I said it so I meant information technology All my life I desire a Grammy but I'll prolly never go it I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon F*ck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the constabulary, cutting the rules I'm near to adventure it all, I ain't got besides much to lose Y'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day, lucky you lot F*ck y'all too, woah! Y'all gotta move, you gotta motion, yous gotta move Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot You gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall Turn my back on you all and you're finished Back to these bullets, it's dorsum to the task Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin' Back on my hood shit, it'southward back to the pushin' These packs and I'g actually pumpin' Can't f*ck with you rappers, you practically suckin' You mighta went platinum, but that don't mean nothin' I'm actually buzzin' this time Direct out the kitchen, I told them the oven is mine I do not f*ck with you lot guys If I don't kill you, simply know y'all gon' suffer this time I ain't no gangster, just I got some bangers Some bondage and some blades and a couple of knives Choppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear tree My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies I, run at you hard like a sumo (sumo) They say I talk similar a chulo (chulo) I live in Mars, I'grand not Bruno Bowwow I'm a dog, phone call me Cujo You lot play your cards, I reverse on you all And I might merely draw four like a Uno Cállate boca mejor maricón little puto, and all of you lot culo They debated the level, I've been to ghetto to ghetto Looking for something I prolly could never detect at present Shit get real upwards until the beefiness die down In truth a nigga just really want me tied down I've been alone, and I never needed nobody Merely merely me and my shotty, I'll tell these niggas to lie downwards Keep all the coin, I never wanted the lifestyle I merely pray to God that my son'll be alright now I said ain't no love for the other side Or anyone who e'er want smoke When I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope You in the wrong cab down the wrong path Nigga incorrect way, wrong route Snakes in the grass, tryna slither fast I just bought a fuckin' backyard mower I done said a lotta things in my day, I acknowledge information technology This is payback in a way, I regret information technology that I did it I done won a couple Grammys, simply I sold my soul to get 'em Wasn't in information technology for the trophies, merely the fuckin' recognition F*ck'southward the difference? I'1000 that cracker, bend the constabulary, f*ck the rules Man I used to risk it all, now I got besides much to lose I been eatin' long enough, man my tum should be full I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet, lucky me F*ck you call back? (Woo!) I got a couple of mansions Still I don't have any manners You got a couple of ghost writers Only to these kids it don't actually matter They're askin' me "What the f*ck happened to hip-hop?" I said "I don't have any answers" 'Cause I took an L when I dropped my final anthology It injure me like hell merely I'chiliad back on these rappers And actually coming from humble beginnings I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning I wish I could say "What a wonderful feeling!" We're on the upswing similar we're punchin' the ceiling Merely nothin' is feeling similar anyone has whatever fuckin' ability To fifty-fifty stick to a subject field, it's killin' me, the disability to pivot humility Hatata batata, why don't nosotros make a bunch of fuckin' Songs about nothin' and grumble! And f*ck information technology, I'm goin' for the jugular Shit is a circus, yous clowns that are comin' upwards Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck About the ones that were here before yous that made rap, let's recap Fashion back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks ADATs, where the G Raps and Kanes at? Nosotros need 3 Stacks ASAP, and bring Masta Ace back Because one-half of these rappers have brain damage All the lean rappin', face up tats, syruped out like tree sap I don't hate trap, and I don't wanna seem mad But in fact, where the old me at? The same cat that would accept that Feedback and aim dorsum, I need that Simply I think it's inevitable They know what push to press or what lever to pull To get me the snap though (lil' bitch) And if I pay it attention I'm probably makin' it bigger Simply yous've been takin' the dicks In the fuckin' back, ho (go it?) On the brink, whatsoever minute Got me thinkin' of finishin' everything With acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits I'm asleep at the bicycle again Equally I peak into thinkin' nearly an evil intent Of another trounce, I'ma kill again 'Crusade even if I gotta terminate upwardly eatin' a pill once again Fifty-fifty ketamine or methamphetamine With the minithin, information technology better be at least seventy to 300 milligram And I might also 'crusade I'ma end upwards bein' a villain again Levels to this shit I got an lift Yous could never say to me I'm not a fuckin' tape breaker I audio like a cleaved record every time I interruption a record Nobody could ever accept away the legacy I made, I never cater Motherfucker at present I got a correct to exist this style I got spite within my DNA But I wrote 'til the wheels autumn off, I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy Information technology's the moment y'all been waitin' for Like California wishin' rain would pour And that drought y'all have been prayin' for My downfall from the eight Mile to the Southpaw Still the same Marshall that outlaw That they say equally a author might've fell off I'm back on that balderdash like the cowboy Then you lot gotta motility (yeah), y'all gotta motion (yeah), you gotta move Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, how 'bout I shoot? Yous gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice
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Written by: Gary Lucas, Jahaan Sweet, Marshall Mathers, Matthew Samuels, Ray Illya Fraser
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided past LyricFind
Source: https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/35802187/Joyner+Lucas/Lucky+You
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