Lucky You Lyrics – Eminem
“Lucky You” marks the first collaboration between Eminem and Joyner Lucas, whom people have pointed out, shares many characteristics with Em in terms of rhyme and flow.| Song Name : | Lucky You |
| Album / Movie : | Kamikaze |
| Singer : | Eminem |
| Music Label : | Aftermath Entertainment |
| Cast : | Eminem |
Whoa, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeahYeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit itI don’t take back what I say, if I said it then I meant itAll my life I want a Grammy but I’ll prolly never get itI ain’t never had no trophy or no motherfuckin’ ribbonFuck the system, I’m that nigga, bend the law, cut the rulesI’m about to risk it all, I ain’t got too much to loseY’all been eatin’ long enough, it’s my turn to cut the foodPass the plate! Where my drink? This my day, lucky youFuck you too, woah!
Y’all gotta move, y’all gotta move, y’all gotta moveGive me some room, give me some room, give me the juiceHop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shootY’all gotta move, y’all gotta move, give me the juice
Back on my bullshit, my back to the wallTurn my back on you all and you finishedBack to these bullets, it’s back to the jobPull 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 mighta went platinum but that don’t mean nothin’I’m actually buzzin’ this timeStraight out the kitchen, I told them the oven is mineI do not fuck with you guysIf I don’t kill you, just know you gon’ suffer this timeI ain’t no gangster but I got some bangersSome chains and some blades and a couple of knivesChoppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear treeMy twelve days of Christmas was nothin’ but liesI, run at you hard like a sumo (sumo)They say I talk like a chulo (chulo)I live in Mars, I’m not BrunoBitch I’m a dog, call me CujoYou play your cards, I reverse on you allAnd I might just draw four like a UnoCállate boca mejor maricón little puto, and all of you culoThey debated the level, I’ve been to ghetto to ghettoLooking for something I prolly could never find nowShit get real up until the beef die downIn truth a nigga just really want me tied downI’ve been alone and I never needed nobodyJust only me and my shotty, I’ll tell these niggas to lie downKeep all the money, I never wanted the lifestyleI just pray to God that my son’ll be alright nowI said ain’t no love for the other sideOr 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 pathNigga wrong way, wrong roadSnakes in the grass, tryna slither fastI just bought a fuckin’ lawn mower
I done said a lotta things in my day, I admit itThis is payback in a way, I regret it that I did itI done won a couple Grammys, but I sold my soul to get ’emWasn’t in it for the trophies, just the fuckin’ recognitionFuck’s the difference?I’m that cracker, bend the law, fuck the rulesMan I used to risk it all, now I got too much to loseI been eatin’ long enough, man my stomach should be fullI just ate, lick the plate, my buffet, lucky meFuck you think? (Woo!)
I got a couple of mansionsStill I don’t have any mannersYou got a couple of ghostwritersBut to these kids, it don’t actually matterThey’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 albumIt hurt me like hell but I’m back on these rappersAnd actually coming from humble beginningsI’m somewhat uncomfortable winningI wish I could say “What a wonderful feeling!”We’re on the upswing like we’re punchin’ the ceilingBut nothin’ is feeling like anyone has any fuckin’ abilityTo even stick to a subject, it’s killin’ me, the inability to pin humilityHatata batata, why don’t we make a bunch of fuckin’Songs about nothin’ and mumble!And fuck it, I’m goin’ for the jugularShit is a circus, you clowns that are comin’ upDon’t give an ounce of a motherfuckAbout the ones that were here before you that made rap, let’s recapWay back, MC’s that wreak havoc on tape decksADATs, where the G Raps and Kanes at?We need 3 Stacks ASAP, and bring Masta Ace backBecause half of these rappers have brain damageAll the lean rappin’, face tats, syruped out like tree sapI don’t hate trap, and I don’t wanna seem madBut in fact, where the old me at? The same cat that would take thatFeedback and aim back, I need thatBut I think it’s inevitableThey know what button to press or what lever to pullTo get me the snap though (lil’ bitch)And if I pay it attention I’m probably makin’ it biggerBut you’ve been takin’ the dicksIn the fuckin’ back, ho (get it?)On the brink, any minuteGot me thinkin’ of finishin’ everythingWith acetaminophen and reapin’ the benefitsI’m asleep at the wheel againAs I peak into thinkin’ about an evil intentOf another beat, I’ma kill again‘Cause even if I gotta end up eatin’ a pill againEven ketamine or methamphetamineWith the minithin, it better be at least 70 to 300 milligramAnd I might as well ’cause I’ma end up bein’ a villain againLevels to this shit I got an elevatorYou could never say to me I’m not a fuckin’ record breakerI sound like a broken record every time I break a recordNobody could ever take away the legacy I made, I never caterMotherfucker now I got a right to be this wayI got spite inside my DNABut I wrote ’til the wheels fall off, I’m workin’ tirelessly, ayyIt’s the moment y’all been waitin’ forLike California wishin’ rain would pourAnd that drought y’all have been prayin’ forMy downfall from the 8 Mile to the SouthpawStill the same Marshall that outlawThat they say as a writer might’ve fell offI’m back on that bull like the cowboy
So y’all gotta move (yeah), y’all gotta move (yeah), y’all gotta moveGive me some room, give me some room, give me the juiceHop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, how ’bout I shoot?Y’all gotta move, y’all gotta move, give me the juice