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Eminem
Eminem


Информация
Настоящее имя Marshall Bruce Mathers III
Дата рождения 17 октября 1972 г.
Откуда Detroit, Michigan, U.S.
Жанры Hip-hop
Годы 1995—н.в.
Лейблы Interscope Records
Shady Records
Aftermath Entertainment
См. также Jay-Z
D12
Royce da 5'9"
The Alchemist
50 Cent
Obie Trice
Сайт Website



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  E  →  Eminem  →  Дискография  →  8 Mile

Альбом Eminem


8 Mile (29.10.2002)
29.10.2002
1.
Lose Yourself (Eminem)
2.
8 Mile (Eminem)
3.
4.
Love Me (Obie Trice, Eminem & 50 Cent)
5.
Places To Go (50 Cent)
6.
Wanksta (50 Cent)
7.
Rap Game (D-12)
8.
9.
10.
My Nigga For Real (Young Zee)
11.
Battle (Gang Starr)
12.
Spit Shine (Xzibit)
13.
Time of Your Life (Macy Gray)
14.
Wasting My Time (Boomkat)
15.
R.A.K.I.M. (Rakim)
16.
Adrenaline Rush (Obie Trice)
. . .


Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted-One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's chokin, how everybody's jokin now
The clock's run out, time's up over, bloah!
Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that
Is he? No
He won't have it , he knows his whole back city's ropes
It don't matter, he's dope
He knows that, but he's broke
He's so stacked that he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again yo
This whole rap shit
He better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him

[Hook:]
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo

The soul's escaping, through this hole that it's gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a, new world order
A normal life is borin, but superstardom's close to post mortar
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
He blows us all over these hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he's know as the globetrotter
Lonely roads, God only knows
He's grown farther from home, he's no father
He goes home and barely knows his own daughter
But hold your nose cuz here goes the cold water
His hoes don't want him no mo, he's cold product
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose dove and sold nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds
I suppose it's old potna, but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da

[Hook]

No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this mothafuckin roof off like 2 dogs caged
I was playin in the beginnin, the mood all changed
I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin and stepwritin the next cypher
Best believe somebody's payin the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the fact
That I can't get by with my 9 to 5
And I can't provide the right type of life for my family
Cuz man, these goddam food stamps don't buy diapers
And it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life
And these times are so hard and it's getting even harder
Tryin to feed and water my seed, plus
See dishonor caught up bein a father and a prima donna
Baby mama drama's screamin on and
Too much for me to wanna
Stay in one spot, another jam or not
Has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail
I've got to formulate a plot fore I end up in jail or shot
Success is my only mothafuckin option, failure's not
Mom, I love you, but this trail has got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot
So here I go is my shot.
Feet fail me not cuz maybe the only opportunity that I got

[Hook]

You can do anything you set your mind to, man

. . .


[Eminem]
Sometimes I just feel like, quittin I still might
Why do I put up this fight, why do I still write
Sometimes it's hard enough just dealin with real life
Sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
And show these people what my level of skill's like
But I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life
Somethin ain't right, hit the brake lights
Case of the stage fright, drawin a blank like
Da-duh-duh-da-da, it ain't my fault
Great then I falls, my insides crawl
and I clam up (wham) I just slam shut
I just can't do it, my whole manhood's
just been stripped, I have just been vicked
So I must then get, off the bus then slip
Man fuck this shit yo, I'm goin the fuck home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]
I'm a man, I'ma make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time to really just take matters into my own hands
Once I'm over these tracks man I'ma never look back
(8 Mile Road) And I'm gone, I know right where I'm goin
Sorry momma I'm grown, I must travel alone
And go follow the footsteps I'm makin my own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road

[Eminem]
I'm walkin these train tracks, tryin to regain back
the spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap
To the same plant, and the same pants
Tryin to chase rap, gotta move ASAP
And get a new plan, momma's got a new man
Poor little baby sister, she don't understand
Sits in front of the TV, buries her nose in the pad
And just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand
While she colors her big brother and mother and dad
Ain't no tellin what really goes on in her little head
Wish I could be the daddy that neither one of us had
But I keep runnin from somethin I never wanted so bad!
Sometimes I get upset, cause I ain't blew up yet
It's like I grew up, but I ain't grow me two nuts yet
Don't gotta rep my step, don't got enough pep
The pressure's too much man, I'm just tryin to do what's best
And I try, sit alone and I cry
Yo I won't tell no lie, not a moment goes by
That I don't pray to the sky, please I'm beggin you God
Please don't let me be bitchin holdin no regular job
Yo I hope you can hear me homey wherever you are
Yo I'm tellin you dawg I'm bailin this trailer tomorrow
Tell my mother I love her, kiss baby sister goodbye
Say whenever you need me baby, I'm never too far
But yo I gotta get out there, the only way I know
And I'ma be back for you, the second that I blow
On everything I own, I'll make it on my own
Off to work I go, back to this 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]

[Eminem]
You gotta live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it
Or see what the big deal is, why it wasn't the skillest
To be walkin this borderline of Detroit city limits
It's different, it's a certain significance, a certificate
of authenticity, you'd never even see
But it's everything to me, it's my credibility
You never seen heard smelled or met a real MC
who's incredible upon the same pedestal as me
But yet I'm still unsigned, havin a rough time
Sit on the porch with all my friends and kick dumb rhymes
Go to work and serve MC's in the lunchline
But when it comes crunch time, where do my punchlines go
Who must I show, to bust my flow
Where must I go, who must I know
Or am I just another crab in the bucket
Cause I ain't havin no luck with this little Rabbit so fuck it
Maybe I need a new outlet, I'm startin to doubt shit
I'm feelin a little skeptical who I hang out with
I look like a bum, yo my clothes ain't about shit
if the Salvation Army tryin to salvage an outfit
And it's cold, tryin to travel this road
Plus I feel like I'm on stuck in this battlin mode
My defenses are so up, but one thing I don't want
is pity from no one, the city is no fun
There is no sun, and it's so dark
Sometimes I feel like I'm just bein pulled apart
I'm torn in my limbs, by each one of my friends
It's enough to make me just wanna jump out of my skin
Sometimes I feel like a robot, sometimes I just know not
what I'm doin I just blow, my head is a stove top
I just explode, the kettle gets so hot
Sometimes my mouth just overloads the ass that I don't got
But I've learned, it's time for me to U-turn
Yo it only takes one time for me to get burned
Ain't no fallin no next time I meet a new girl
I can no longer play stupid or be immature
I got every ingredient, all I need is the courage
Like I already got the beat, all I need is the words
Got the urge, suddenly it's a surge
Suddenly a new burst of energy is occured
Time to show these free world leaders the three and a third
I am no longer scared now, I'm free as a bird
Then I turn and cross over the median curb
Hit the verbs and all you see is a blur from 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]

. . .


Somedays I just wanna up and call the quits
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks
Everytime I go to get up I just fall in pits
My life's like one great big ball of shit!
If I could, just put it all onto what I spit
Instead of always tryina swallow it
Instead of starin' at this wall and shit
While I sit writin' this plot, sick of all this shit
Kid, Call it Shit!
All I know is I'm about to hit the wall
If I ever have to see another one of Mom's alcaholic fits
This is it last straw
That's all, That's it
I ain't dealin' with another fuckin' politic
I'm like a skillet bubblin', until it filters up
I'm about to kill it, I can fill it buildin' up
Blow this buliding up, I've been sealed enough
My cup, When its over I'da filled it up
Then it explodes, and spills my guts
You think all I do is stand here and feel my nuts
Well.. Imma show you what, You gon' feel my rush
If you don't feel it, then it must be too real to touch
Build the dutch, Im about to tear shit up
Goosebumps, Yea Imma make your hair sit up, Yea sit up
Imma tell you who I be, Imma make you hate me, Cuz you ain't me
You ate, it ain't too late for you to finally see
What you close-minded Fucks, What you Blind to see
Whoever finds me is gonna get a finders fee
Out this world, they no it ain't a mind to me
You need piece of mind? Here's a piece of mine
All I need's a line, Sometimes I don't always find the words to rhyme
To express how I'm really feeling at that time, Yes
Sometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes
Its just sometimes is always me
How dark can these hallways be
The clock strikes midnight
1, 2, then half passed 3
This half-ass rhyme, with this half-ass piece of paper
I'm desperate in my task
If I could just get the rest of this shit off my chest, Again
Stuck in this slump, Can't think of nothing
Fuck, I'm stumped, Oh Wait Here comes something, No!
Its not good enough, scribble it out
New pad, crinkle it up, and throw the shit out
I'm fizzling out, thought I figured it out
Balls in my court but I'm scared to dribble it out
I'm afraid, but why am I afraid? Why am I a slave
To this Tray? Sign not to spit to the grave
Real enough to route you up, Want me to flip it? I can rip it
any style you want. Imma switch to the bitch Jimmy Smith aint a quitter
Imma sitter till I get enough finally hit a boiling point
Put some oil in your joints, Flip the coin, Bitch come get destroyed
And MC's worst dream, I make them tensed, they hate me
See me and Shape like a Chainlink fence
By the looks of em you would swear that Jaws was coming
By the screams of them you would swear Im sawin someone
By the way they runnin', you could swear that the law was coming
Its now or never, And tonight is all or nothing
Momma, Jimmy keeps leaving on us, He said he'd be back
He pinky promised, I don't think he's honest
I'll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock
Fuck this clock! Imma make them Eat this watch
Don't believe me Watch! Imma win this race
And Imma come back and rub my shit on your face, Bitch!
I found my nitch, You gonna fear my voice
Till your SICK of it you ain't gonna have a choice
If I gotta scream till I have half a lung
If I have have a chance, Imma grab it, Rabbit Run!


[Thanks to DeRtYhEaD12@eminem.com for these lyrics]
[Thanks to slipknot6262@yahoo.com for correcting these lyrics]

. . .


[Verse 1]
[Obie Trice]
You don't see me in the hood
It's cause I'm doing this man

Niggas, I'm still grinding, (yeah...)
I'm still hearing those sirens,
I'm still getting chased by those lights,
Only the light's mine and my mic's on
And my time is none because I'm writing more,
And I ain't here to meet a soul in this buisness,
I'm here to eat, speak, until these hoes feel this, (for sure...)
and I can't let y'all derail me man,
I got young Kobe, homie, you gotta let go of Obie
cause Obie be back, (ain't goin' nowhere man...)
We got them craps going on
and that yak going on,
soon as a nigga touch down back from tourin',
It's whateva, put that on the chedda man,
but in the meantime, it's Jimmy Ivene time,
chase cheese, rhyme till my voice give out,
this is it my nigga, this what we boast about,
Now I'm here so shut your motherfuckin mouth
And show me love bitch..

[CHORUS]
[Obie Trice]
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life, (I dont love you bitch)
I wanna hold you in the morning, (Ha)
hold you through the night (Hahaha)

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life, (We wanna love alcohol, we wanna love guns,)
I wanna hold you in the morning, (we wanna love money)
hold you through the night.. (Ha) (we don't wanna love bitches though)

[Verse 2]
[Eminem]
There's a certain mystique when I speak,
that you notice that it's sorta unique,
cause you know it's me, my poetry's deep,
and I'm still matic the way I flow to this beat,
you can't sit still, it's like tryin to smoke crack
and go to sleep, I'm strapped,
just knowing any minute I could snap,
I'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped,
I bully these rappers so bad lyrically,
it ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry,
it ain't even money, you can't pay me enough
for you to play me, it's cockamamie,
you just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady,
my noodle is cockadoodle, my clocks cuckoo,
I got screws loose, yeahhh, the whole kitten-kaboodle,
I'm just brutal. It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it,
there's no humor in it no more, you know
I'm rollin with a swollen bowling ball in my bag,
you need a fag to come and tear a new hole in my ass
you better love me bitch

[CHORUS]
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life,
I wanna hold you in the morning,
hold you through the night

[Obie Trice]
(and all the bitches say)

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life,
I wanna hold you in the morning,
hold you through the night

[Verse 3]
[50 Cent]
my buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name,
if it ain't about the flow,
it's about the stones and the chain,
if I was you, I'd love me too,
I roll like a bus, 9-11 pulse same color as cranberry sauce,
I ain't gonna front, I thought R-Kelly was tha shit,
then we find out he fucking round with bow wow bitch,
niggas eatin popcorn, right, rewinding the tape,
now shorty momma in the precinct hollerin rape,
i'm convinced man something really wrong with these hoes,
I thought Lil' Kim was hot then she start fucking with her nose, (God Damn)
used to listen to Lauren Hill and tap my feet,
then the bitch put out a CD that didn't have no beats, (uh-huh)
that boy D'Angelo he determined not to fail,
that nigga went butt-ass for his record to sell,
my back shot to help Ashanti hit them high notes,
and Big Ben told Charlie to deepthroat

[CHORUS]
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life,
I wanna hold you in the morning, (I luv'a burnish the monies, the bunnies)
hold you through the night(I just wanna hold you

I just wanna love you for the rest of my life, I wanna hold you in the morning,
(I just wanna love you)
hold you through the night


[Thanks to FPJKC25@aol.com for these lyrics]

. . .


yeah

G-Unit
Aftermath
G-Unit

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

you mistaken me for somebody that you should be testing,
your should be stressin I'm gonna fuckin teach you a lesson,
MAC 101's in session and lace the track that I'm blessin,
smith and western's, the weapon, in case you just guessing, (God Damhn)
these straight busters kept-in, kept-in my benz, hop-in the end's,
watch the 22 spin , my hoe's a perfect 10
I got shot up but I got up and i'm back at it again,
motherfuckers they thought I wouldn’t win, pretend to be friends,
at first you fail, try, try, try, try again,
i'm the best don't you get it, forget it, when I spit it, its crazy,
you love it, admit it, you like it, I live it, its Shady,
aftermath in your ass bitch, if its not a classic,
When it's dumped, trash it, so I got it mastered,
stop and get your ass kicked, bastered, your misses get drastic,
glock made out of plastic, cock-it and get blasted,
run nigga and stash it...

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

There is a genie in that bottle of that don-pari'on,
I'm a drink till I get to that bitch in the morn,
Introduce me to the booth they gonna listen to my words,
In the hood they feel my shit...
(break-it down!)

Picture a perfect picture, picture me in the paper
Picture me starting shit, picture me busting my gat,
picture police man Dan gotta picture of that,
picture me being broke, picture me smokin a sack,
picture me comin up, picture me rich from rap,
picture me blowin up, now picture me going back,
to my momma basement to live, shit, picture that,
where I'm from its a fact, you gotta watch your back,
you wear a vest without a gat, use a target jack,
hastle hard, money stack, sell that dope, sell that crack,
sell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, crew are back,
50 Cent, too much spent?, man I'm bent, I'm outta here

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

I got places to go, I got people to see,
The penitentiary, ain't the place for me,
I'm warnin you do, not tempt me,
I'll run up and squeeze
And put a hole in you, hole in you

Ha-ha
Man I aint going to jail
Not even to visit a nigga
You want to holla at me, you wright me,
Matter a fact, you gotta send it to Sunset Boulevard,
In Montreal,
Ha-ha-ha
riding around in one of Dre's Farrari's nigga,
or matter a fact I might be in Detroit,
riding down 8 Mile road,
you know, for one of them en-joints and shit,
Ha-ha
ya heard, I got place to go man,
you know, Shady/Aftermath,
we finished our print money,
puttin' our faces on this motherfuckin bill thug shit,
Ha ha ha ha ha,
ain't seem to be doing much...

. . .


WHOOO! Yea, It's 50, A.K.A. Ferrari, F-50, Break it down.
I got a lot of livin, to do before I die,
And I ain't got time to waste. Let's make it.

You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin.

You ain't a friend of mine,(yea) you ain't no kin to mine,(c'mon)
What makes you think that I won't run up on you wit the 9, (uh huh)
We do this all the time (what), right now we on the grind (yea)
So hurry up and cop and go resell it nicks and dimes, (uh huh)
Shortie, she so fine, I gotta make her mine,
A ass like that, gotta be one of a kind,(Whoo)
I crush em everytime, punch em wit every line,
I'm fuckin wit they mind, I make em press rewind,
They know they can't shine, If I'm around to rhyme,
Been on parole since 94, cause I commit the crime,
I say them my line, I did it 3 to 9,
The D's ran up in my crib, you know who drop the dime.

You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, but you ain't got nothin.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin long time, but you ain't got nothin.

Damn homie,
In highschool you was the man homie,
What the fuck happened to you, I got the sickest vendetta, when it come to the
chedda,(uh huh)
Nigga, you play with my paper, you gon meet my baretta,
Now shortie think I'm a sweat her,(uh huh) I'm sippin on Amaretto, (yea)
I'm out here doin stilleta, I know I could do betta,
She look good, but I know she after my chedda,
She tryin to get in my pockets, homie, and I ain't gon let her,
Be easy, start some bullshit, you get your whole crew wet,
We in the club doin the same ol two step,
Gorilla unit cuz, they say we bugged out,
Cause we don't go nowhere without toast be thugged out.

You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin,
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin.

Me, I'm no mobsta, me, I'm no gangsta,
Me, I'm no hitman, (yea) me, I'm just me,
Me, I'm not wanksta, me, I'm no actor,
But it's me you see, on your tv, cause I hustle babe,
This rap shit is so easy, I'm gettin what you get for a brick, to talk greasy,
By any means(whoo), patna, I got to eat on these streets,
When you play me close, fa' sho, I'ma pop my heat,
Niggas say they gon murda 50, how
We ridin round wit guns the size, of Lil' Bow Wow,
What you know about AK's and AR-15's,
Equipped wit night vision, shell catchers and empties, huh.

You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You got to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin,
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin.

HA! Damn Homie!

[Thanks to mysticam2002@hotmail.com for lyrics]

. . .


Obie Trice, real name no gimmicks
Rap; I been in it ever since I was invented
That's cuz a nigga live it
My records wield digits in history - niggaz you be the witness
I got the white boys mad at me
Cuz Em, signed another black boy like he nigga happy
Caucasians, Marshall knows talent
Obie Trice a riot, that's why he's hired
I hit ya raves, balloons and E's
and bang all your European Pamela Lee's
Fuckin aye, or how we say it round my way
"Fo sho", Trice gon' blow, then I'm off to them shows
I'm off across the globe, until my accounts all swoll
For young Kobe - big things, act like ya know me
Not a soul can hold me, I'm here

[Chorus]
That's why I ain't got no, ("rap name")
The name's ("Obie Trice") ("??????")
So I came to the game ("real name, no gimmicks")
Rap my living...
That's why I ain't got no, ("Rap Name")
The name's ("Obie Trice") ("??????")
So I came to the game ("real name, no gimmicks")
Rap my living - that's why I ain't got no

[Obie Trice]
It didn't take much - one hot single (BAM!!)
Smiles and handshakes my man
The industry greeted me with open arms
With no type of flak cuz O. Trice got that
Fugaze y'all rap, who gave y'all dat?
New wave of mu-zack that your all lovin
Got your broads on my balls huggin

Even my next-of-kin's famous (Obie's your cousin?!)
Please believe it, I'm as "Down to Earth" as Chris Rock
gettin hit by trucks, starin at twat
A big cannon in ya G-spot
Me not arrogant girl, me keep them freaks hot
Whether or not you believe my status
I'm prepared to be the baddest on the rap that's happenin
Put the Mitten back on the map with Mathers and win this

[Chorus]

[Obie Trice]
Well I'm drunk right now, but still I got a gun
Beef? (*cocked and two shots*) best-a run
Cuz when I pop, people's flesh get numb
And whoa.. ya might not make it till ya young
The only one with okay's wanna blaze
Meet my little friends on racks in my den
Pull 'em out, that's when the action begins
And ya block, remind you of Mad Max the film
Deserted, that's word to vacant homes
2002 Trice up in ya headphones
(*vocal scratch* - If it's ya system)
Trice up in ya bows
(*vocal scratch* - If it's ya women)
Then Trice up in ya hoes!
I suppose that I am kinda cocky, when it's dealin
with raps, chicks, and cats out to sock me
I handle it like Rocky, Jake Sneed
Rakim, Eric B. - O's a G!

[Chorus]

{*scratching*}
"rap name" ... "rap name" ... "Obie Trice"
"You can get stomped by Obie..."

. . .


Uhh, oooooooooooooh baby, baby
Keep it thug, and keep yo' heat, na nah nah nah nah

[Nas]
Now slowly, thinkin of all the things that oppose me
I think of kings who died and rappers out to dethrone me
For they crown they head is cut off, bodies is laid
Dead in the street, it's so fuckin pitiful
First they love you, could be the bitch that even live with you (hoe)
Mad at your riches, now she switched, turned miserable
Cause she wanna dress like Bonnie, Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal's single, Bonnie's broke and her niggaz too (ha)
I can do bad by myself; went from rags to wealth
From Jags to Bentleys to, plenty ass bitches
Can't keep they hands to theyself no more
I'm like, Hugh Hefner, you lesser, you just a

[Chorus]
Wanna be me, you can't you faggot, you bitch
You coward, you clown, you just wanna be down
So you - wanna be me, you bitch, you phony
You clone me, you wanna be son, I'm the one and only
But you - wanna be me, you suckers, you weak
You flunkies, you fake, you couldn't come close on my worst day
But you - wanna be me, I burn you and learn you a lesson
Concernin this mic profession, turn your direction

[Nas]
You can't be me, not in your wildest fantasy
It's childish; should I have to resort to violence?
Pay me a half a million, I'll consult your album
And show you how to stay off my dick
That's the thing I hate the most, can't even call you a man
When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans
No talent, you need direction; you a pussy with a yeast infection
You unlucky, I'm your fuckin C-section
Plus I'm the last real nigga alive
Toast glass, Ill Will, the label get high
Realize, how many classics I gave you
Perhaps if you think back you'll realize that I made you

[Chorus]

[Nas]
You can't be me, I'm tryin to walk a straight line
Why they tryin to take mine? I'm past +8 Miles+ of every state line
Eating, alligators and, hummingbird hearts
At the player's ball, Brianni suits, y'all birds watch
As real millionaire, shit'll take place
Evil as Hitler's hate-race people
This is God son, and I've come from the God under pure peace
To represent the streets, you'll see that my plan
is not to destroy your man
But to bring more to mankind and teach
Every MC reach for your pens and papers
Lesson one be creative; what you made of junior?
Cause soon you'll be a grown man with the mic in your hand
And understand, to battle Nas not in your plan
I'm the last real nigga alive, understand that
And you my offspring, the boss sting
A bulletproof Porsche things, hard for you to understand that
Nas the king, where my bricks, where my band at?
Play me a gangster's theme, while you entertain me
If I ain't cryin laughin, to the lions, throw your ass in
What the fuck was you niggaz thinkin?
Guns'll clutch if I get a inklin that you comin for the kingpin
But I laugh at you cowards, ha ha ha
Take me out, try try try, but you

[Chorus]

You can't be me

. . .


Yeah Renegades is back and the beat is sick,
Jay Z, Freeway, 8 Miles,
let's go...

[Verse 1]
8 miles and running, got my 7 album droppin,
And my 8 album coming,
Feedin a thousand growling stomachs,
But I could rewind the counter ta back, back,
When it was now or nothing,
People said I would amount to nothing,
That I had time for nothing,
Said I wasn't from the valers
or the sellers by your gunman,
I can see the folks now he got what he had coming,
Now that my 8th album's coming,
Everybody smiling wanting something,
claiming that they done something for em,
got Jay Z and pom poms in they whole uniforms,
claiming they be running and telling everybody like Martin Lawrence,
about how hot my rap performace was before I was who I was,
claimin that they threw it up before I threw it up, you what..
Where was you before I blew this up,
I didn't see you in the courtroom when everyone was suein us,
I didn't see you in all black when everybody was suitin up,
back on the block, kickin it in and it was no you with us,


[CHORUS]
8 miles and running, got my 7 album droppin,
and my 8 album coming,
feedin a thousand growling stomachs, freaks...
6 miles and running got my fist straight poppin,
and my first album coming feedin 20 promises I made

(Repeat)

[Verse 2]

6 miles and running in the pontiak,
6 thousand 86 trans mic shift,
while the engine run,
anyone turn around
and give me one more chance,
let em smoke and scream em one more grams,
so i'm a bring them, homie, son and my pop,
stick close to my momma, keep toasters for drama,
mix alot with my son, my son growin and he learnin alot,
thats what i'm toastin, thats what i'm burin, so pop,
right on your own, rell 'em nigga, tell 'em nigga,
its like a biblical scripture,
look back turn to salt like the sinners
and most yall heartless and self-centered
like me shaggin, me shack,
set up your brother cause you tell us nigga,
heat back, uh, like, you never love for never
and cops watch every step, 6 miles and running
dodge in every trap, the rap ginger bread man,
cherish every precious breath, stat pick a second gat
uh..

[CHORUS]

[Verse 3]

Back when nobody would find me a talent,
Nobody would sign me, nobody believed in me,
Nobody but mommy blindly, but how could she deny me,
Me being the youngest friend to come up out of her,
tell me, she got every love for me,
when niggas would worn me the industry shun me,
that's why I'm taking all the industries money,
revenge is sweet honey, we run this,
young is the illest, free is the future,
beans and bleekers right now,
we can see our 8 miles nigga...

[CHORUS]

. . .


Uh, Zee
I got waiting haze, my customers ho's, sleep with me
We have small beef, I still sell them O's for three fifty
They know in big beef, I pop a hundred times
Be like roadkill, I live nigga's brains on one and nines
And my down bitches, they be ready to kill
I be like chill, they be like..

[Chorus]
That's my nigga for real (Yea, uh huh, I'm from the Bricks, we be like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, Young Zee, all my niggas from the hood, they be
like)
That's my nigga for real (Yea, B-Boy, you my nigga, talk to 'em)

[B-Boy]
Yo, I don't give a fuck if we don't sell a record
We still gon' get this money in the Bricks
Spill it, Zee

[Young Zee]
Yea, uh, yea, yea
I'm like, Santa Claus, I deliver niggas grams a raw
Straight from Panama, fiends eat it up like canavaugh
And my dimes disappear like magic wands
I sell 'em, 'til the crack of dawn and destroy every track I'm on
Plus I have a clam packed in the back of vans
More royal than the Taliban murk you for a half a gram
(What?) I get B-Boy to drop your truck in the river
Fuck some dough, we be like..

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
Yea, jeah, Uh-huh-ha, yea
Scarecrow (what?), I'm trying to walk before I crawl
I want it all ever since I came out of my mama's walls
I'm trying to make so much dough when I write a song
I can write 'em all why y'all clique on the corner selling final calls
Yea, niggas mad at us, gladiators like Maximas, we fabulous
While you fall off like Canibus's managers
My man Dee U, keep the nina peelin'
(Point 'em out, and watch me)

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
Zee need Buddha, E-user, beef pre Lugers
Spittin' from our PT cruisers
My tape don't drop, I still got dough to make
Got little niggas on roller skates holding my coke and weight
Blow paper, ho chaser, dough raiser, Joe Fraizer
Sixteen cellys and four pagers
Go hype up your squad that they might fuck with ours
I just, light up cigars, go by bikes, trucks, and cars
I got (?) In Atlanta deep, 'round the street, ten grand a week
I give 'em one word to put your man to sleep
And I love my Jersey live bitches
They'll leave a nigga face, with thirty five stitches
They'll help my tie cinder blocks and push your kids
So deep in the ocean, they'll see where octopuses live
Jeah, this label deal is for Raz, Pace, and Chill
I know mad chicks, but still

[Chorus + Young Zee ad libs]

[Young Zee]
What, Bricks (Bricks, Bricks)

. . .


{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}
{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}

[Guru]
I used to guzzle 40's, and own a beat up Caddy
Since the hood still love me, I'll turn the heat up daddy
I went from mackin fly honies on the train
to straight relaxin on the beach, countin money gettin brain
Soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
You buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot
Then you in the club, stylin with dough
Profilin with hoes that we boned, a while ago
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track
You had one hot single, but then your album sounds wack
Son you bore me with your war stories
You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more stories
How you expect us to take you seriously?
The look in my eye punk, has got you scared of me
I'm blastin your sons, I'm snatchin your funds
You catch a royal ass-whoopin, you've been askin for one

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"

[Guru]
Bitch you don't even know, the half about me
I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
I might advise ya, or I might pulverize ya
I can visit any city, get respect in the street
While you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets
I'll take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
I ain't talkin romance but you'll get swept off your feet
I keeps a ghetto chick, that loves to blast and she peddle shit
Groupies fake moves, I get her to settle shit
You can't compare to the status right here
Legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
Listen junior, I'ma tear back your wig
This ain't TV but I'll show you what a "Fear Factor" is
Stop grillin me, and all that frontin is killin me
You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings G

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around"*}
"You know the drill"
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"You know the drill"

. . .


[Verse 1]
I 'ma clean this whole shit out like climax,
with words put togeather better then sony electronics,
king of the jungle, humbly stay honest,
eat with the lions, swim with peranas,
gassoline the scene, strike the match,
inferno, I'm to throue nigga, so stand back,
I spit shine, get mine and rip rhyme
and make my career take a incline,
I'm strick with knives, straight with razors,
good with grenades and great with gadges, (yeah)
been around the world on a million stages,
watch nigga's bitch up and go through changes,
I had gun's before guns was in fashion,
I mashed out before niggas knew mashin,
I knew terror before the plane started crashin,
I got punch lines and nigga's aint laughin...

[CHORUS]

I'm gon be here after the smoke dye down,
Insomnia style I won't lye down,
fight the good fight don't need no help,
keep your hands up defend yourself,
move like I move and live lifelong ,
can't move up if your hearts not strong,
get your own shit cause this shit's mine,
every time I spit, I shine

[Verse 2]

cock-sucker I preach what I practise,
back shit up, wrap this, rap shit up,
still actin up, get found in the trunk of an Acuva,
yall suck like jail in dracula,
X turn up the heat, increase the hatred,
straight stone face don't fuck with gay shit,
so i guess that means I cant fuck with you now,
drew down, let off, facate to new town,
you feel like bishop, induced now,
gotta flame thrower that will burn
great holes till you goose down, (yeah)
rough sound, same strong background,
bent on black the big boys playin tips down,
my whole train of thought is the party,
any motherfucker with problems and not get caught,
I was blessed with life when I cursed to death,
I'm a spit till my very last breath...

(fuck yall)

[CHORUS]

[Verse 3]

Let me get a three second look, I hit a million dollar target,
You ain't came up yet well nigga' let me show ya, (aaaa)
Come across dope like planes and boats,
Like baloons filled with coke, down a mexican's throat,
you ever seen a man get smoked and shit on himself,
the body shake for a second, then it can't stop a second,
the evidence are the weapon and the people involved,
let one nigga talk, everybody gettin caught, for sure,
I say that, to say this,
if you cant handle the time then ride the beach,
might as well touch your tail and jump the fence,
castrate yourself expose the bitch,
X go head up, the fuck never ran from it,
I got engadged with buck shots that you can't stomach,
You ain't a killer you a album filler,
You ain't a soldier you a rap premoter,
Game over...

[CHORUS]

. . .

Time of Your Life

[Нет текста]

. . .


I don't think you understand
That what you're doing is not so cool
You think it's funny to mess with my mind
Don't you

You know I like you so you just tease me
You give me just enough to hang on enough
When you're just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time

Do you hear me when I say
So let me ask you something
Do you think I'm pretty or don't you
Do you wanna get with me or not and nowwww

Or are you just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time
And what would you've got to say
Well things have got to change
Say this just isn't right
I don't wanna have to fight
And I think I'd better go
Cause this ain't working out any more
and I'm sorry, sorry, sorry

Understand
That what you did
Was just not so cool
Baby, you're just not that cool

. . .

R.A.K.I.M.

[Нет текста]

. . .


Get the fuck out motherfucker...

[Verse 1]
Hey yo...
When I step up in the bar, everybody hit the fucking floor,
Lucky motherfuckers make it to the door,
Cause when I spit on mic's I spit raw,
Which cause confusion from the bar to the dance floor,
I keep the club on the vex,
Cause he gotta pay me when I spit, plus replace alot of shit,
Niggas get a whiling,
When my words echo's the room like, Get your hand out my pocket,
You suck shit when my topics rockin,
I'm banned from clubs 'cause my toxic tonsils,
Loud speaker like a fucking sports announcer,
I spit the baa-haa till you rush the bouncer,
I rush the mutherfucker in your way who's bouncing,
You know old christ get their yak's pronouncin...

[CHORUS]

Get live motherfucker when I speak motherfucker,
Out your seat motherfucker, I'm a reach motherfucker,
Shady-records till I sleep motherfuckers
Obi-Trice nothin but street motherfucker
Tear this bitch up till you bleed motherfucker
I would'nt give a fuck who you be motherfucker
Punk, pussy, bitch or G motherfucker
Adrenaline rush before you leave motherfucker

[Verse 2]

When I speak I blow out your tweeters, yo dog,
Show out in speakers roll out with heaters,
I'm just an animal eating the game,
Jumbo monkey, funky and obie's the name,
I rose solo, never been a hoe though,
Keep yak's vocal when cats act loco,
Where you at when I'm moving the crowd,
You get trampled, mashed on detroit style,
Up out your seats, pump out the E's,
Off the beat's the crowd overpleased,
Where my nigga's at smoking them tree's,
Off the cognac, finger fucking the ski's,
That's how it is when you party with me,
You don't like it, you L-7 like a square beat...

[CHORUS]

[Verse 3]
Yo, yo, since I came I rearrange the place with blaze,
Spays dope with coke-fevers DNA, I'm so addicted,
To gettin nigga's lifted, drunk off a liquid,
Obie Trice the misfit,
Douse'in the crowd with piss and voul's,
We underground motherfucker fix your frown's,
I beat the bore with a wisty tour,
Off a whisky you never been this deep before,
So throw up your hands and peep out your man's
When I come through next quarter trust it in you's,
And trust I'm attackin it,
I hook up the hot shit like ay see we havin it,
That's why I'm so miraculous,
And hope to get you nigga's pumped up,
I see you next time I see him chump,
That's right, you go through obie trice fucked up,
on your knees drop for these...

[CHORUS]

. . .


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