Klik disini >> ⛈️ Lirik Lagu Lucky You Eminem

Intro Frogg Whoah! A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em and like, back and forth because ah this is.. what you thought it wasn't It beez.. the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen I be the F-R-O the double G coughing in background And check out the man he goes by the name of er Verse One: Eminem Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady I'm a M80, you Lil' KunciGitar Chord Jason Mraz Feat Colbie Caillat - Lucky Chord. ⌛ Autoscroll. 📄 Lirik. [Intro] C Am F G E Am F G [Jason Mraz] C Am Now do you hear me talking to you F G E Across the water, across the deep blue ocean Am F Under the open sky, oh my G Baby I'm trying [Colbie] C Am Boy I hear you in my dreams F G I feel your whisper across the Thismy day, lucky you Fck you too, woah! 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, how 'bout I 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 and you're Vay Tiền Nhanh. Lirik Lagu Eminem - Lucky You Feat. Joyner Lucas Joyner Lucas* Whoa, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeah 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 motherfckin' ribbon Fck 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 Fck you too, woo! Joyner Lucas* 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 Joyner Lucas 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 fck with you rappers, you practically suckin' You mighta 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 fck 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 sumo They say I talk like a chulo chulo I live in Mars, I'm not Bruno woo Btch I'm a dog, call me Cujo rah You play your cards, I reverse on you all And I might just drop 4 like a Uno bup Cállate boca mejor, maricón, little puto, and all of you culo They've invented a level off in the ghetto to ghetto Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now Shit get relevant until 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 Joyner 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 fckin' lawn mower Eminem 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 fckin' recognition Fck's the difference? I'm that cracker, bend the law, fck the rules Man I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose I been eatin' long enough, man my stomach should be full I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet, lucky me Fck you think? woo! Eminem I got a couple of mansions Still I don't have any manners You got a couple of ghost writers But to these kids it don't actually matter They're askin' me, "What the fck happened to hip-hop?" I said, "I don't have any answers." 'Cause 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 winning I wish I could say "What a wonderful feeling!" "We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling!" But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fckin' ability To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me The inability to pin humility Hatata batata, why don't we make a bunch of Fckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em! Fck it, I'm goin' for the jugular Shit is a circus, you clowns that are comin' up Don't give an ounce of a motherfck About the ones that were here before you that made rap Let's recap, way back, MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks ADATs, where the G Rap's and Kane's at? We need 3 stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back 'Cause 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 feed-back and aim back, I need that But I think it's inevitable They know what button to press or what lever to pull To get me to snap though lil btch And if I'm payin' attention I'm probably makin' it bigger But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fckin' back, ho get it? 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 peak into thinkin' about an evil intent Of another beat I'ma kill again 'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin It better be at least 70 to 300 milligram And I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain again Levels to this shit, I got an elevator You could never say to me I'm not a fckin' 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 Motherfcker know I got a right to be this way I got spite inside my DNA But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off, I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy It's the moment y'all been waitin' for Like California wishin' rain would pour In that drought, y'all have been prayin' for My downfall from the 8 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 Joyner Lucas & Eminem* So y'all gotta move yeah, y'all gotta move yeah, 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 Lirik Lagu Eminem Feat. Joyner Lucas - Lucky You Penyanyi Eminem & Joyner Lucas Lagu Lucky You Album Kamikaze Rilis 2018 Loading... woah joyner, joyner yah, yah, ya 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 prolly never get it i ain’t never had no trophy or no mother f–kin’ ribbon f–k the system, i’m that n-gg- bend the law, cut the rules i’m about to risk it all i ain’t got too much to lose y’all been eating long enough it’s my turn to cut the food p-ss the plate where my drink? this my day, lucky you f–k you too, woah! 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, how ’bout i shoot? y’all gotta move, y’all gotta move, give me the juice back on my bullsh-t, my back to the wall turn my back on you wall and you’re finished back to these bullets, it’s back to the job put my mac on all of you runnin’ back on my hood sh-t, it’s back to the pushing these packs and i’m actually pumpin’ can’t f–k whatchu rapping you practically suckin’, you might’ve went platinum, but that don’t mean nuthin’ i’m actually buzzin’ this time straight out the kitchen, i told them the oven is mine i do not f–k witchu guys if i don’t care you just know that you gonna suffer this time i ain’t no gangster but i got some banging some chains, and some blades in, and a couple of knives choppers and jammies, a partridge in a pear tree my twelve days of christmas was nothing but lies why don’t you holla like a sumo sumo they say i talk like a chulo i live in mars, i’m not bruno b-tch, i’m a dog call me cujo you play your cards, i reverse on you all and i might just drop four like an uno cã¡llate la boca maricã³n le cuto and all of you culo they’ve invented a level off in the ghetto to ghetto lookin’ for something that prolly they can never find out shake irrelevant and tell ’em to beef right now and you would n-gg- you really want me tied down i’ve been alone and never needed n-body just only me and my shotty i’ll tell these n-gg-s to lie down keep all of the money, i never wanted the lifestyle i just pray to god that my son be alright now i said ain’t no love for the other side or any one who ever want smoke when i die i’m going out as the underdog who never lost hope you in the wrong cab down the wrong path n-gg- wrong way, wrong road snakes in the gr-ss, tryna slither fast i just bought a f–kin’ lawn mower i have 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 f–kin’ recognition f–k’s the difference? i’m that cracker! bend the law, f–k the rules man i used to risk it all, now i got too much to lose i been eating long enough man my stomach should be full i just ate, lick the plate my buffet, lucky me, f–k you think? woo! i got a couple of mentions, still i don’t have any manners you got a couple of ghost writers but to these kids it don’t actually matter they asking me “what the f–k happened to hip-hop?” i said “i don’t have any answers” ’cause i took an l when i dropped my last alb-m and it hurt me like h-ll but i’m back on these rappers and actually coming from humble beginnings i’m somewhat of uncomfortable winning i wish i could say what a wonderful feeling we’re on the upswing like we’re punching the ceiling but nothing is stealing like anyone has a f–king ability to even stick to a subject it’s k!lling me, the inability to pin humility hatata batata why don’t we make a bunch of f–kin’ songs about nothin’ and mumble, oh f–k it i’m goin’ for the jugular sh-t is a circus, you clowns that are comin’ up don’t give an ounce of mother f–k about the ones that were here before you to make raps let’s recap way back, mc’s that recap, and take dex eight dats with the g raps and kane’s at, we need three stacks a$ap, and bring back masta ace back because 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, would told me at the same cat that would take that feedback and aim back, i need that but i think it’s inevitable they’d have a b-tton to press or a lever to pull that would give me the snap though little b-tch and if i paid attention then i’d probably be makin’ it bigger but you’ve been taking the d-cks on the f–kin’ back hoe get it? and about to break any minute it got me thinkin’ of finishin’ everything with acetaminophen then reapin’ the benefits i’mma sleep at the wheel again as i’m thinking about an evil that’s in it and then i’mma beat up and k!ll him ’cause even if i gotta end up eating a pill again even ketamine or methamphetamine or anything, it better be at least 70 to 300mg i might as well because i’ma end up being a villain again never should’ve gotten an elevator you could never say to me i’m not a f–kin record breaker i sound like a broken record every time i break a record n-body could ever take away the legacy that i have made a mother f–ker ain’t got a right to be this way i got spite inside my dna but i work until my wheels fall off, i work tirelessly, aye it’s the moment y’all have been waiting for like california wishin’ rain’d pour and that drought y’all have been praying for my downfall from the 8 mile to the southpaw still the same marshall that outlaw that they say is a writer might have fell of but got back up on that bull like a cowboy 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, how ’bout i shoot? y’all gotta move, y’all gotta move, give me the juice Joyner Lucas, Eminem Year 2018 405 2,919 Views Playlists 6 The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing Whoa, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeah 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 Fck 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 Fck you too, woah! 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, how 'bout I 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 and you're 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 fck with you rappers, you practically suckin' You mighta went platinum, but that don't mean nothin' I'm actually buzzin' this time Straight out the kitchen, I told them the oven is mine I do not fck with you guys If I don't care you just know that you gonna suffer this time I ain't no gangster but I got some bangin' Some chains and some blades in 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 sumo They say I talk like a chulo chulo I live in 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 drop four like an Uno Cállate boca mejor, maricón, little puto, and all of you culo They've invented a level off in the ghetto to ghetto Lookin' for something that prolly can never find out Shake irrelevant and tell 'em to beef right now What you would nigga? You really want me tied down I've been alone, I never needed nobody Just only me and my shotty, I'll tell these niggas to lie down Keep all of 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 Fck's the difference? I'm that cracker, bend the law, fck the rules Man I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose I been eatin' long enough, man my stomach should be full I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet, lucky me Fck you think? Woo! I got a couple of mansions Still I don't have any manners You got a couple of ghost writers But to these kids it don't actually matter They're askin' me "What the fck happened to hip-hop?" I said "I don't have any answers" 'Cause I took an L when I dropped my last album It hurt me like hell but I'm back on these rappers And actually coming from humble beginnings I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning I wish I could say "What a wonderful feeling!" We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability To even stick to a subject, it's killin' me, the inability to pin humility Hatata batata, why don't we make a bunch of fuckin' Songs about nothin' and mumble! And f*ck 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 to make raps, let's recap Way back, MC's that recap and tape decks ADATs, where the G Raps and Kanes at? We need 3 Stacks ASAP, and bring Masta Ace back Because 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 get me the snap though lil' bitch And if I paid attention I'd probably makin' it big But you've been takin' the dicks In the fuckin' back, ho get it? On the brink, any minute Got me thinkin' of finishin' everything With acetaminophen then reapin' the benefits I'ma sleep at the wheel again As I peak into thinkin' about an evil intent Of another beat, I'ma kill again 'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill again Even ketamine or methamphetamine With the minithin, it better be at least 70 to 300 milligram And I might as well 'cause I'ma 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 wrote 'til the wheels fall off, I'm workin' tirelessly, ayy It's the moment y'all been waitin' for Like California wishin' rain would pour And that drought y'all have been prayin' for My downfall from the 8 Mile to the Southpaw Still the same Marshall that outlaw That they say is a writer might've fell off But back on that bull like the cowboys So y'all gotta move yeah, y'all gotta move yeah, y'all gotta move Give me some room, give me some room, give me the juice Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, how 'bout I shoot? Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing 117 fans Written by Gary Lucas, Jahaan Sweet, Marshall Mathers, Matthew Samuels, Ray Illya Fraser Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

lirik lagu lucky you eminem