| Whoa, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit it
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| I don't take back what I say, if I said it then I meant it
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| All my life I want a Grammy but I'll prolly never get it
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| I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon
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| Fuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law, cut the rules
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| I'm about to risk it all, I ain't got too much to lose
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| Y'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food
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| Pass the plate! |
| Where my drink? |
| This my day, lucky you
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| Fuck you too, woo!
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| Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move
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| Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
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| Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
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| Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice
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| Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall
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| Turn my back on you, all of you finished
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| Back to these bullets, it's back to the job
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| Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
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| Back on my hood shit, it's back to the pushin'
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| These packs and I'm actually pumpin'
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| Can't fuck with you rappers, you practically suckin'
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| You mighta went platinum, but that don't mean nothin'
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| I'm actually buzzin' this time
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| Straight out the kitchen, I told 'em the oven is mine
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| I do not fuck with you guys
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| If I don't kill you, just know you gon' suffer this time
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| I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers
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| Some chains and some blades and a couple of knives
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| Choppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear tree
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| My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies
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| I run at you hard like a sumo (sumo)
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| They say I talk like a chulo (chulo)
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| I live in Mars, I'm not Bruno (woo)
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| Bitch I'm a dog, call me Cujo (rah)
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| You play your cards, I reverse on you all
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| And I might just drop 4 like a Uno (bup)
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| Cállate boca mejor, maricón, little puto, and all of you culo
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| They've invented a level off in the ghetto to ghetto
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| Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now
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| Shit get relevant until the beef die down
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| In truth a nigga just really want me tied down
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| I've been alone and I never needed nobody
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| Just only me and my shotty, I'll tell these niggas to lie down
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| Keep all the money, I never wanted the lifestyle
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| I just pray to God that my son'll be alright now
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| I said ain't no love for the other side
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| Or anyone who ever want smoke (Joyner)
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| When I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope
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| You in the wrong cab down the wrong path
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| Nigga, wrong way, wrong road
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| Snakes in the grass tryna slither fast
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| I just bought a fuckin' lawn mower
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| I done said a lotta things in my day, I admit it
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| This is payback in a way, I regret it that I did it
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| I done won a couple Grammys but I sold my soul to get 'em
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| Wasn't in it for the trophies, just the fuckin' recognition
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| Fuck's the difference?
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| I'm that cracker, bend the law, fuck the rules
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| Man I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose
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| I been eatin' long enough, man my stomach should be full
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| I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet, lucky me
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| Fuck you think? |
| (woo!)
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| I got a couple of mansions
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| Still I don't have any manners
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| You got a couple of ghost writers
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| But to these kids it don't actually matter
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| They're askin' me, "What the fuck happened to hip-hop?"
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| I said, "I don't have any answers."
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| 'Cause I took an L when I dropped my last album
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| It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers
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| And actually comin' from humble beginnings
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| I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning
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| I wish I could say "What a wonderful feeling!"
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| We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling
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| But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability
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| To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me
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| The inability to pin humility
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| Hatata batata, why don't we make a bunch of
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| Fuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em!
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| Fuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular
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| Shit is a circus, you clowns that are comin' up
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| Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck
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| About the ones that were here before you to make raps
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| Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks
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| ADATs, where the G Rap's and Kane's at?
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| We need 3 stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back
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| 'Cause half of these rappers have brain damage
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| All the lean rappin', face tats, syruped out like tree sap |
| I don't hate trap, and I don't wanna seem mad
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| But in fact, where the old me at? |
| The same cat
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| That would take that feed-back and aim back, I need that
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| But I think it's inevitable
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| They know what button to press or what lever to pull
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| To get me to snap though (lil bitch)
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| And if I'm payin' attention I'm probably makin' it bigger
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| But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fuckin' back, ho (get it?)
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| On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'
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| Everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits
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| I'm asleep at the wheel again
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| As I peak into thinkin' about an evil intent
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| Of another beat I'ma kill again
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| 'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again
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| Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin
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| It better be at least 70 to 300 milligram
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| And I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain again
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| Levels to this shit, I got an elevator
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| You could never say to me I'm not a fuckin' record breaker
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| I sound like a broken record every time I break a record
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| Nobody could ever take away the legacy, I made a navigator
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| Motherfucker know I got a right to be this way
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| I got spite inside my DNA
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| But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off, I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy
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| It's the moment y'all been waitin' for
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| Like California wishin' rain would pour in that drought
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| Y'all have been prayin' for
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| My downfall from the 8 Mile to the Southpaw
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| Still the same Marshall, that outlaw
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| That they say as a writer might've fell off
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| I'm back on that bull like the cowboys
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| So y'all gotta move (yeah), y'all gotta move (yeah), y'all gotta move
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| Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
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| Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
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| Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice |