Lucky You (feat. Eminem)

(Woah)

(Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah (yeah, yeah, 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, 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 (yeah, yeah, yeah)

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 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Y'all been eatin' long enough

It's my turn to cut the food (yeah)

Pass the plate (yeah), where my drink? (Hol' up)

This my day (yeah, yeah), lucky you, fuck you too

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' (yeah, yeah, yeah)

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 (sumo)

They say I talk like a chulo (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 (Joyner)

They've embedded the level, I been the ghetto to ghetto

Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now

Shit get realer, but 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 (Joyner)

When I die, I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope (yeah)

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 (yeah)

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

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

It hurt me like hell, but I'm back on these rappers (yeah)

And actually comin' from humble beginnings

I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning

I wish I could say: What a wonderful feeling

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

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 (yeah)

Let's recap, way back, MC's that (what?)

Wreak havoc on tape decks

ADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at?

We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back

'Cause 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 (lil' bitch)

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 (get it?)

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 I'ma kill again

'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again

Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin

It better be at least 70 or 300 milligram

And I might as well, 'cause I'ma 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 (yeah)

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 (yeah)

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 (yeah)

From the 8 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 cowboy

So y'all gotta move, yeah, y'all gotta move, yeah, y'all gotta move

Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice

Hop out the coupe (Joyner), hop out the coupe (Joyner), hop out and shoot

Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice