[Intro]
Bbm Gb Fm
[Chorus 1]
Bbm
Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit it
Gb Fm
I don't take back what I say, if I said it then I meant it
Bbm
All my life I want a Grammy, but I'll prolly never get it
Gb Fm
I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon (Yah I said it)
Bbm
Fuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law, cut the rules
Gb Fm
I'm about to risk it all, I ain't got too much to lose
Fm Bbm
Y'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food
Gb Fm
Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day, lucky you
Fm
Fuck you too, woo!
[Chorus 2]
Bbm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move
Gb Fm
Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
Gb Fm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice
[Verse 1]
Bbm
Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall
Bbm
Turn my back on you, all of you finished
Gb
Back to these bullets, it's back to the job
Fm
Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
Bbm
Back on my hood shit, it's back to the pushin'
Bbm
These packs and I'm actually pumpin'
Gb
Can't fuck with you rappers, you practically suckin'
Fm
You mighta went platinum but that don't mean nothin'
Bbm
I'm actually buzzin' this time
Bbm
Straight out the kitchen, I told 'em the oven is mine
Gb
I do not fuck with you guys
Fm
If I don't kill you, just know you gon' suffer this time
Bbm
I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers
Bbm
Some chains and some blades and a couple of knives
Gb
Choppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear tree
Fm
My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies (Ayy)
Bbm
I run at you hard like a sumo (Sumo)
Bbm
They say I talk like a chulo (Chulo)
Gb
I live in Mars, I'm not Bruno (Woo)
Fm
Bitch I'm a dog, call me "Cujo" (Rah)
Bbm
You play your cards, I reverse on you all
And I might just draw 4 like a Uno (Bup)
Gb Fm
Callate boca mejor, maricon, little puto, and all of you culo (Joyner)
Bbm
They've invented a level up in the ghetto to get old
Bbm
Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now
Gb
Shit get relevant 'til the beef die down
Fm
In truth a nigga just really want me tied down
Bbm
I've been alone and I never needed nobody
Bbm
Just only me and my shotty, I'll tell these niggas to lie down
Gb
Keep all the money, I never wanted the lifestyle
Fm
I just pray to God that my son'll be alright now
Bbm
I said ain't no love for the other side
Bbm
Or anyone who ever want smoke (Joyner)
Gb Fm
When I die I'm goin' out as a underdog who never lost hope (Yeah)
Bbm
You in the wrong cab down the wrong path
Nigga, wrong way, wrong road (Woo, woo)
Gb
Snakes in the grass tryna slither fast
Fm
I just bought a fuckin' lawn mower (Vroom!)
[Chorus 1]
Bbm
I done said a lotta things in my day, I admit it
Gb Fm
This is payback in a way, I regret it that I did it
Gb
I done won a couple Grammys, but I sold my soul to get 'em
Fm
Wasn't in it for the trophies, just the fuckin' recognition
Fuck's the difference?
F
I'm that cracker, bend the law, fuck the rules
F
Man I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose
F
I've been eatin' long enough, man my stomach should be full
F
I just ate, licked the plate, my buffet, lucky me
F
Fuck you think? (Woo!)
https://www.coveralia.com/acordes/lucky-you--feat--joyner-lucas--eminem.php
[Verse 2]
Bbm
I got a couple of mansions
Gb
Still I don't have any manners
Bbm
You got a couple of ghost writers
Gb
But to these kids it don't actually matter
Bbm
They're askin' me, "What the fuck happened to hip-hop?"
Gb
I said, "I don't have any answers."
Bbm
'Cause I took an L when I dropped my last album
Gb
It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers
Bbm
And actually comin' from humble beginnings
Gb
I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning
Bbm
I wish I could say, "What a wonderful feeling!"
Gb
"We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling!"
Bbm
But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability
To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me
Gb
The inability to pen humility
Gb
Ha-ta-ta ba-ta-ta, why don't we make a bunch of
Bbm
Fuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em?
Gb
Fuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular
Bbm
Shit is a circus, you clowns that are comin' up
Gb
Don't give an ounce of a motherfuck
Bbm
About the ones that were here before you that made rap
Gb
Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks
Gb
ADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at?
Bbm
We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back
Bbm Gb
'Cause half of these rappers have brain damage
Gb
All the lean rappin', face tats, syruped out like tree sap
Gb
I don't hate trap, and I don't wanna seem mad
Gb
But in fact, where the old me at? The same cat
Gb
That would take that feedback and aim back, I need that
F
But I think it's inevitable
F
They know what button to press or what lever to pull
F
To get me to snap though (Lil' bitch)
F
And if I pay it attention I'm probably makin' it bigger
Bbm
But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fuckin' back, ho (Get it?)
Bbm
On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'
Bbm
Everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits
Bbm
I'm asleep at the wheel again
Bbm
As I peak into thinkin' about an evil intent
Bbm
Of another beat I'ma kill again
Bbm
'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again
Bbm
Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin
Bbm
It better be at least 70 to 300 milligram
Bbm
And I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain again
Bbm
Levels to this shit, I got an elevator
Bbm
You could never say to me I'm not a fuckin' record breaker
Bbm
I sound like a broken record every time I break a record
Bbm
Nobody could ever take away the legacy I made, I never cater
Bbm
Motherfucker, now I got a right to be this way
Bbm
I got spite inside my DNA
Bbm
But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off,
Bbm
I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy
F
It's the moment y'all been waitin' for
F
Like California wishin' rain to pour
F
In that drought, y'all been prayin' for
F
My downfall from the 8 Mile to the Southpaw
F
Still the same Marshall, that outlaw
F
That they say as a writer might've fell off
F
I'm back on that bull like the cowboy
[Chorus 3]
Bbm
So y'all gotta move (Yeah),
Bbm
y'all gotta move (Yeah), y'all gotta move
Gb F
Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot
Gb F
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice
