Karaoké Lucky You Eminem & Joyner Lucas

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 then I meant it

All my life I want a Grammy but I'll prolly never get it

I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon

Fuck the system, I'm that nigga

Bend the law, cut the rules

I'm about to risk it all

I ain't got too 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

Fuck you too wooh

Y'all gotta move

Y'all gotta move

Y'all 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

Y'all 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 of you finished

Back to these bullets

It's back to the job

Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'

Back on my hood shit

It's back to the pushin' these packs and I'm actually pumpin'

Can't fuck with you rappers

You practically suckin'

You might'a went platinum but that don't mean nothin'

I'm actually buzzin' this time

Straight out the kitchen

I told 'em the oven is mine

I do not fuck with you guys

If I don't kill you just know you gon' suffer this time

I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers

Some chains 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

They say I talk like a chulo

I live on Mars, I'm not Bruno

Bitch I'm a dog, call me Cujo

You play your cards

I reverse on you all and I might just draw four like a Uno

Cállate boca mejor maricón

Little puto and all of you culo

They've invented a level up in the ghetto to get old

Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now

Shit get relevant 'till all the beef die down

In truth a nigga just really want me tied down

I've been alone and I never needed nobody

Just only me and my shawty

I'll tell these niggas to lie down

Keep all the money

I never wanted the lifestyle

I just pray to God that my son'll be alright now

I said ain't no love for the other side or anyone who ever 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 wrong way, wrong road

Snakes in the grass tryna slither fast

I just bought a fuckin' lawn mower

I done said a lotta things in my day I admit it

This is payback in a way

I regret it that I did it

I done won a couple Grammys but I sold my soul to get 'em

Wasn't in it for the trophies just the fuckin' recognition

Fuck's the difference

I'm that cracker

Bend the law, fuck the rules

Man I used to risk it all now I got too much to lose

I've been eatin' long enough man my stomach should be full

I just ate, licked the plate

My buffet, lucky me

Fuck you think

I got a couple of mansions

Still I don't have any manners

You got a couple of ghostwriters but to these kids it don't actually matter

They're askin' me

What the fuck happened to hip-hop

I said I don't have any answers

'Cos I took an L when I dropped my last album

It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers

And actually comin' from humble beginnings

I'm somewhat uncomfortable winnin'

I wish I could say

What a wonderful feelin'

We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceilin'

But nothin' is feelin' like anyone has any fuckin' ability to even stick to a subject

It's killin' me

The inability to pen humility

Ha-ta-ta ba-ta-ta

Why don't we make a bunch of fuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em

Fuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular

Shit is a circus

You clowns that are comin' up

Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck about the ones that were here before you that made rap

Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks

ADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at

We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back 'cos half of these rappers have brain damage

All the lean rappin', face 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 take that feedback and aim back

I need that

But I think it's inevitable they know what button to press or what lever to pull to give me to snap though

And if I pay it attention

I'm prob'ly makin' it bigger but you've been takin' ya dicks and I'm fuckin' back ho

On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin' everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits

I'm asleep at the wheel again as I begin to thinkin' about an evil intent of another beat Imma kill again

'Cos even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again, even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin

It better be at least seventy or three-hundred milligram

And I might as well 'cos Imma end up bein' a villain again

Levels to this shit

I got an elevator

You could never say to me

I'm not a fuckin' record breaker

I sound like a broken record every time I break a record

Nobody could ever take away the legacy I made, I never cater

Motherfucker now I got a right to be this way

I got spite inside my DNA

But I roll 'till the wheels fall off

I'm workin' tirelessly ayy

It's the moment y'all been waitin' for like California wishin' rain to pour

In that drought y'all been prayin' for my downfall from the Eight-Mile to the Southpaw

Still the same Marshall

That outlaw that they say as a writer might've fell off

I'm back on that bull like the cowboys

Y'all gotta move

So y'all gotta move

Y'all gotta move

Y'all 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

Y'all gotta move

Y'all gotta move

Give me the juice