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
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
Y'all been eatin' long enough
It's my turn to cut the food
Pass the plate, where my drink
This my day, lucky you
Fuck you too wooh
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'
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
They say I talk like a 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
They've invented a level up in the ghetto to get old
Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now
Shit get relevant '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
When I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope
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
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
'Cos I took an L when I dropped my last album
It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers
And actually comin' from humble beginnings
I'm somewhat uncomfortable winnin'
I wish I could say
What a wonderful feelin'
We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceilin'
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
Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks
ADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at
We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back 'cos 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
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
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 Imma kill again
'Cos even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again, even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin
It better be at least seventy or three-hundred milligram
And I might as well 'cos Imma 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
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
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 from the Eight-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 cowboys
Y'all gotta move
So 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
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