Whoooo Ganja gun. Whoo-oo Ganja ganja. Whoo-oo Ganja gun. Smoke'a de ganja every day. Ya you gonn' smoke'a de ganja in many different ways. You can smoke'a de ganja in a big fat bowl or you can smoke'a de ganja in a bong. N' keep ya' very lucky you can smoke it in a bong. When you smoke it in a bong, you are baked all night long Mista. Dalamkategori rekor ini, Eminem berada di posisi ke-13. Posisi pertama dipegang oleh para pemain Glee dengan 207 lagu debut Hot 100, disusul Drake dengan 187 lagu debut Hot 100. Berikut daftar 11 lagu Eminem yang masuk 100 besar terlaris di AS pada pekan lalu. 1. Lucky You (posisi 6) 2. The Ringer (posisi 8) 3. Fall (posisi 12) 4. Kamikaze Judullagu: Obvious. Genre: R&B, pop‎. Lyric song: Ariana Grande - Obvious. Lyric Ariana Grande - Obvious. I love the taste of you in the morning. Keep me warm and. Maybe if I'm lucky you might stay the afternoon. If you've gotta work just promise me you'll come back soon. Maybe you should pack a suitcase too (Too) Lirik"Lucky Man" dari Mocca ini dipublikasikan pada tanggal 21 Agustus 2005 (17 tahun yang lalu).Belum ada info detil tentang single ini. Berikut cuplikan syair nyanyian / teks dari lagunya: "to have a high-flying briht career but i know they're wrong / to have a lot of friends out there / some people say you're a lucky".Single lainnya dari Mocca di antaranya All The Way, Perahu LirikTerjemahan Indonesia : Britney Spears - Lucky. Lirik Lagu Anime, Jepang dan Barat bersama Arti dan Terjemahannya. [Pertapa Kishin] Setelahwara-wiri dengan berbagai singlenya, baik solo atau kolaboratif, Jessie Reyez akhirnya merilis album debutnya, “Before Love Came to Kill Us,” yang dilepas FMLY/Island Records pada tanggal 27 Maret lalu. Ada 14 track yang terdapat dalam album. Selain lagu-lagu yang sudah diperdengarkan untuk album ini (‘Figures’, ‘Imported’, ‘Love in the Dark’), kita juga bisa SonoraID - Lagu yang berjudul ‘That’s What I Like’ ini adalah lagu yang dinyanyikan pertama kali oleh Bruno Mars pada tahun 2016. Lagu ini pun yang membawa nama Bruno Mars sebagai pemenang dalam ajang Grammy Awards. Berikut ini adalah Chord dan Lirik Lagu ‘That’s What I Like’ milik Bruno Mars. [Verse 1] Dm Dm. I got a condo in Manhattan 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' YCiY0. [Intro Joyner Lucas]Woah, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeahYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah[Refrain Joyner Lucas]Yeah, 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' ribbon Yeah, yeah, yeahFuck 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 lose Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahY'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food YeahPass the plate Yeah, where my drink Hol' up?This my day Yeah, yeah, lucky you, fuck you too, woo![Chorus Joyner Lucas]Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, y'all gotta moveGive me some room Woo!, give me some room Hey!, give me the juiceHop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shootY'all gotta move Boom, bap, y'all gotta move Woo!, give me the juice[Verse 1 Joyner Lucas]Back on my bullshit, my back to the wallTurn my back on you, all of you finished Bap, bop, bopBack to these bullets, it's back to the jobPull my MAC out and all of you runnin' Yeah, yeah, yeahBack 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' YuhYou might'a went platinum but that don't mean nothin'I'm actually buzzin' this timeStraight out the kitchen, I told 'em the oven is mineI do not fuck with you guys Woo!If I don't kill you, just know you gon' suffer this time Yeah!I 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 lies IRun at you hard like a sumo SumoThey say I talk like a chulo Chulo!I live on Mars, I'm not Bruno Woo!Bitch, I'm a dog, call me Cujo RahYou play your cards, I reverse on you allAnd I might just draw four like a Uno BupCállate boca mejor, maricónLittle puto, and all of you culo JoynerThey've invented a level up in the ghetto to get oldLookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now Yeah, yeahShit get relevant 'til all the beef die down YeahIn truth, a nigga just really want me tied down Bop, bopI've been alone and I never needed nobodyJust only me and my shawty, 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 now Woo! Woo!I said ain't no love for the other sideOr anyone who ever want smoke JoynerWhen I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope YeahYou in the wrong cab, down the wrong pathNigga, wrong way, wrong road Woo! Woo!Snakes in the grass tryna slither fastI just bought a fuckin' lawn mower Vroom![Refrain Eminem]I done said a lotta things in my day, I admit itThis is payback in a way Yeah, I regret it that I did itI done won a couple Grammys, but I sold my soul to get 'em AhWasn't in it for the trophies Nah, 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've been eatin' long enough, man, my stomach should be fullI just ate, licked the plate, my buffet, lucky me, fuck you think? Woo![Verse 2 Eminem]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 rappers YeahAnd actually comin' 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 ceiling!"But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' abilityTo even stick to a subject, it's killin' meThe inability to pen humilityHa-ta-ta, ba-ta-ta, why don't we make a bunch ofFuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em?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 YeahLet's recap, way back, MC's that What?Wreak havoc on tape decks WooADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at?We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back'Cause half of these rappers have brain damageAll the lean rappin', face tats, syruped out like tree sapI don't hate trap Nah, and I don't wanna seem madBut in fact Yeah, where the old me at? The same catThat would take that feedback and aim back, I need thatBut I think it's inevitable they know what button to pressOr what lever to pull to give me to snap though Lil' bitchAnd if I pay it attention, I'm prob'ly makin' it biggerBut you've been takin' ya dicks and I'm fuckin' back, ho Get it?On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'Everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefitsI'm asleep at the wheel again, as I begin to thinkin' about an evil intent of another beat I'ma kill again'Cause even if I gotta end up eating a pill againEven ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithinIt better be at least seventy or three-hundred 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 breaker YeahI 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 DNA YeahBut I roll 'til the wheels fall off, I'm working tirelessly, ayyIt's the moment y'all been waitin' for like CaliforniaWishin' rain to pour in that drought, y'allBeen prayin' for my downfall YeahFrom 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 cowboys 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 Lucky You feat. Joyner Lucas WoahJoyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeahYeah yeah, yeah, yeahYeah, I done did a lot of things in my dayI admit itI don't take back what I sayIf 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' ribbon yeah, yeah, yeahFuck the system, I'm that niggaBend the law, cut the rulesI'm about to risk it allI ain't got too much to lose yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahY'all been eatin' long enoughIt's my turn to cut the food yeahPass the plate yeah, where my drink? Hol' upThis my day yeah, yeah, lucky you, fuck you tooY'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 juiceBack on my bullshit, my back to the wallTurn my back on you, all of you finishedBack to these bullets, it's back to the jobPull my MAC out and all of you runnin' yeah, yeah, yeahBack 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 timeStraight out the kitchen, I told 'em 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 lies IRun at you hard like a sumo sumoThey say I talk like a chulo chuloI live on 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, maricónLittle puto, and all of you culo JoynerThey've embedded the level, I been the ghetto to ghettoLookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find nowShit get realer, but till all 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 shawty, 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 JoynerWhen I die, I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope yeahYou in the wrong cab, down the wrong pathNigga, wrong way, wrong roadSnakes in the grass tryna slither fastI just bought a fuckin' lawn mowerI done said a lotta things in my dayI admit itThis is payback in a way yeahI 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 crackerBend the law, fuck the rulesMan, I used to risk it allNow I got too much to loseI've been eatin' long enough, man, my stomach should be fullI just ate, licked the plate, my buffet, lucky me, fuck you think?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 rappers yeahAnd actually comin' from humble beginningsI'm somewhat uncomfortable winningI wish I could say What a wonderful feelingWe're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceilingBut nothin' is feelin' like anyone has any fuckin' abilityTo even stick to a subject, it's killin' meThe inability to pen humilityHa-ta-ta, ba-ta-ta, why don't we make a bunch ofFuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em?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 yeahLet's recap, way back, MC's that what?Wreak havoc on tape decksADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at?We need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back'Cause 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 catThat would take that feedback and aim back, I need thatBut I think it's inevitable, they know what button to pressOr what lever to pull to give me to snap though lil' bitchAnd if I pay it attention, I'm prob'ly makin' it biggerBut you've been takin' ya dicks and I'm fuckin' back, ho get it?On the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'Everything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefitsI'm asleep at the wheel again as I begin to thinkin' about an evil intent of another beat I'ma kill again'Cause even if I gotta end up eatin' a pill againEven ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithinIt better be at least 70 or 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 breaker yeahI 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 DNA yeahBut I roll till the wheels fall off, I'm workin' tirelessly, ayyIt's the moment y'all been waitin' for, like CaliforniaWishin' rain to pour in that drought, y'allBeen prayin' for my downfall yeahFrom 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 cowboySo 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 Joyner, hop out the coupe Joyner, hop out and shootY'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, give me the juice Sorte Sua part. Joyner Lucas UauJoyner, Joyner, é, é, éÉ é, é, éÉ, fiz muitas coisas no meu tempoAdmitoNão retiro o que disseSe falei, então tive a intençãoPor toda minha vida quis um Grammy, mas provavelmente nunca vou ganharNunca tive um troféu ou a porra de uma faixa é, é, éQue se foda o sistema, eu sou aquele caraQue distorce a lei, quebra as regrasEstou prestes a arriscar tudoNão tenho muito a perder é, é, é, éVocês estão comendo há muito tempoÉ a minha vez de cortar a comida éPassem o prato é, cadê minha bebida? Pera aíHoje é meu dia é, é, sorte sua, vai se foder você tambémTodos vocês têm que sair, todos vocês têm que sair, todos vocês têm que sairMe deem um pouco de espaço, me deem um pouco de espaço, me respeitemSaio de um carro luxuoso, saio de um carro luxuoso, saio e atiroTodos vocês têm que sair, todos vocês têm que sair, me respeitemDe volta ao meu jeito, com as costas pra paredeDou as costas pra vocês, todos vocês estão acabadosDe volta a essas balas, de volta ao trabalhoSaco minha metralhadora e todos vocês correm é, é, éDe volta à minha quebrada, de volta à vendaDesses pacotes e estou realmente faturandoNão posso sacanear esses rappers, vocês estão praticamente quebradosPodem até ter um disco de platina, mas isso não significa nadaNa verdade, estou no topo dessa vezAcabei de sair da cozinha, falei pra eles que o forno é meuEu não sou amigo de vocêsSe eu não matar vocês, basta saberem que vocês vão sofrer dessa vezNão sou um gângster, mas tenho algumas bombasAlgumas correntes, e algumas lâminas, e um par de facasArmas e pistolas, uma perdiz, uma pereiraMeus Doze Dias de Natal não passaram de mentiras euCorro até você como um lutador de sumô sumôEles dizem que eu falo como um bacana bacanaEu vivo em Marte, não sou o BrunoVadia, sou um cachorrão, me chame de CujoVocês jogam suas cartas, eu mudo a direção do jogoE talvez eu faça vocês comerem um Mais 4, tipo no UnoMelhor calar sua boca, cuzãoPutinho, e todos vocês, covardes JoynerEles inventaram um nivelamento, tô na favelaProcurando por algo que provavelmente nunca vou encontrarA coisa só vai ficando mais séria, mas até que a briga acabeNa verdade, esse cara só quer que eu vá presoEu vivo sozinho e nunca precisei de ninguémSó eu e minha arma, nunca vou mandar esses caras deitaremPodem ficar com o dinheiro, nunca quis esse estilo de vidaSó peço a Deus que meu filho fique bemDisse que não tenho amor pelos que estão do outro ladoOu qualquer um que queira confusão JoynerQuando eu morrer, vou ser lembrado como o azarão que nunca perdeu a esperança éVocê está no táxi errado, indo para o caminho erradoMano, sentido errado, estrada erradaCobras na grama tentam rastejar rápidoAcabei de comprar a porra de um aparadorFalei muitas coisas no meu tempoAdmitoDe certa forma, isso é o troco éMe arrependo do que fizJá ganhei alguns Grammys, mas vendi minha alma por elesNão queria os troféus, só a porra do reconhecimentoMas qual é a porra da diferença? Sou aquele branqueloQue distorce a lei, quebra as regrasCara, eu costumava arriscar tudoAgora tenho muito a perderEstou comendo há tempo suficiente, cara, minha barriga deveria estar cheiaAcabei de comer, lambi o prato, meu buffet, sorte minha, que porra você acha?Tenho algumas mansõesMas ainda não tenho modosVocê tem alguns escritores-fantasmaMas pra esses jovens isso realmente não importaEles estão me perguntando Que porra aconteceu com o hip-hop?Eu disse Eu não tenho resposta nenhumaPorque fui chamado de perdedor quando lancei meu último álbumDoeu pra caramba, mas voltei pra atacar esses rappers éE, na verdade, tendo vindo de um começo humildeFico um pouco desconfortável com vitóriasEu gostaria de poder dizer Que sentimento maravilhosoEstamos em ascensão como se fôssemos socar o tetoMas é difícil me sentir assim quando parece que ninguém tem a porra da habilidadeDe pelo menos falar sobre alguma coisa, isso me mataA inabilidade de escrever com humildadeHa-ta-ta, ba-ta-ta, por que a gente não faz um monte deMúsicas sobre nada e só fica balbuciando?Foda-se, tô mirando a jugularEssa porra é um circo, vocês, palhaços novatosNão dão a mínimaPara os que estavam aqui fazendo rap antes de vocês éVamos recapitular, lá atrás, MCs que o quê?Faziam sucesso nos toca-fitasADATs, onde estão os Kool G Rap e os Big Daddy Kane?Precisamos do André 3000 o mais rápido possível, e tragam o Masta Ace de voltaPorque metade desses rappers têm problemas mentaisSó falam sobre bebidas, tatuagens no rosto, cheios de leanNão odeio o trap e não quero parecer bravoMas, na realidade, onde está o antigo eu? O mesmo gatoQue pegaria essa crítica e miraria de volta, preciso dissoMas acho que é inevitável, eles sabem qual botão apertarOu qual alavanca puxar pra me deixar maluco putinhosE se eu prestar atenção, acho que provavelmente estou aumentando as coisasMas vocês tem levado pau e eu vou foder de volta, cuzões entenderam?Estou no limite, o tempo todo penso em acabarTudo com Paracetamol e colher os benefíciosEstou dormindo no volante de novo enquanto começo a pensar sobre as más intenções em outra música de sucesso que vou fazerPorque mesmo se eu acabar voltando pras drogasMesmo cetamina ou metanfetamina com minitinaÉ melhor ser pelo menos entre 70 e 300 miligramasE talvez seja melhor, porque vou acabar virando o vilão de novoExistem níveis nessa merda, tenho um elevadorVocê nunca pode dizer que eu não quebro recordes éPareço um disco arranhado toda vez que quebro um recordeNinguém pode apagar o legado que fiz, eu não abro mãoFilho da puta, agora tenho direito de ser assimTenho desprezo em meu DNA éMas eu escrevo até as mãos caírem, estou trabalhando incessantemente, eiÉ o momento pelo qual todos têm esperado, como a CalifórniaEsperando a chuva cair naquela seca, todos vocêsTem rezado pela minha volta éDo 8 Mile ao NocauteAinda sou o mesmo Marshall, aquele fora da leiQue eles dizem que, como compositor, deve ter decaídoSubi de novo em cima do touro como um caubóiEntão todos vocês têm que sair, é, todos vocês têm que sair, é, todos vocês têm que sairMe deem um pouco de espaço, me deem um pouco de espaço, me respeitemSaio de um carro luxuoso Joyner, saio de um carro luxuoso Joyner, saio e atiroTodos vocês têm que sair, todos vocês têm que sair, me respeitem