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Fuel (Shady Edition)
Eminem, WESTSIDE BOOGIE & Grip
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[Intro] Smokin' trees, I'm ridin' 'round Come to my side of town Lately, it's been goin', goin', goin', goin', goin' down Come see how heavy it get, I done seen way to much stress as a jit Death in this section was present We preppin' for war, so we feel like we better equipped Brodie got demons he keep to his-self, probably won't ever know, 'cause he never gon' snitch Hella resentments from lettin' it sit I say "I got him," I'm never gon' miss I done put way too much prep into this Back on your bumper how I'm wreckin' this b!tch I keep on talkin' 'bout healin' that's never gon' happen You know that I'm steppin' on sh!t I say the feelin' I get from me killin' a rapper Just show me that Heaven exist Shootin' 'til ain't nothin' left in the clip Shootin' 'til I get a strike in the b!tch I might just go get a TEC in the b!tch I might just go at the ref in this b!tch Guessing you think this sh!t new to me, huh? Guess you ain't know what's fuelin' me, huh? I just had enemies shootin' me Tell me, just what could this industry do to me, huh? Helpin' the hood and the homies And plus the community think that it's two of me, huh? Know where I go when it's over, I run out of gas They gon' say that they through with me, huh? Aww, sh!t, when all this sh!t gon' get better? B!tches just fvckin' whoever, n**** just sayin' whatever N****s' gon' fold under pressure, honestly I ain't no better I had to hop out the hole and got cold as a shoulder I turned my emotion into sweater I had to garner the power to work on my soul I ain't tryna be broke in forever I see the smoke, and start runnin' into it Shawty you loose and is so therapeutic I kina think that you want it to happen Got put in a corner, you forced me to do it You gotta tell me that bein' a rapper is hangin' with rappers, and I ain't into it I'm with the sh!t, and I'm ready to prove it Waitin' on Marshall to say I can do it This sh!t goin'- (Down, down, down, down, do-do-do-do—) If I run out of fuel, I won't What the fvck y'all gon' do if I don't Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, do-do-do-do—) That scares the fvck out of you Look I was left on the left for death, where what I bled for a game that barely kept me fed They want the fame, just a spec of cred, nowadays I take a check instead The pen been steps ahead, if you mention him, them boys wet the bed Get on a track with Grip, and get knocked out like yo' daddy did Whatever Deebo said, the crap, we can go head to head N****s play hard on the app At they momma crib hatin' on bars in the rap From n****s that's still starvin' in the trap Clap back, "Grip, you're takin' it too far, just relax" These words I discard on wax Sh!t deeper than the cars and the rats, the fashion and gas So when it's star in the rats, got some of a feel, n**** with scars in his back So pardon me, a part of me feelin' insta click Picture fit, b!tch a b!tch, blitz your sh!t Grip in the kitchen with instant grits Flick the wrist, they wish he miss, he six for six Go back to the discog, it's obvious I'm the godliest, yeah, I'm sonnin' y'all I took the Summer off, just to let them get they mumbles off, about blasé, they ain't spun at all The uninvolved underdog, somewhere from a junkie slum, wanna pummel y'all, but they don't wanna brawl This sh!t ain't even fun no more I mean, don't nobody wanna come outside They like "You should do a song with so and so, or maybe such and such", this sh!t done, I tried They must've got it in their arsenal or metacarpal, pick the pen up and now ink the mat Hmm, but then again I'm partial It really took Marshall just for me to get a feature, damn I know raops what I started with, but when your target market's a thought to the [body split?] It's harder to put your heart in it, put come too far to quit, now I'm onto guitar and sh!t So don't find it jarrin' if I switch the whole style up with the whole grip, go get the whole album Any genre, same outcome, I want a bit with a stick like Malcolm (Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow) If I run out of fuel, I won't What the fvck y'all gon' do if I don't Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, do-do-do-do—) That scares the fvck out of you I was up to my waist in debt, better yet, face and neck, tryna chase a check Sweat, labor for minimal as wages get Just tryna get me a dub like a blank cassette (Yeah) I worked for peanuts 'til the day I met Dre And that gave me a little Raisinette Now nothing is close to disgusting as what I grossed So this must mean what I wrote makes me the Illest rapper there is, was, there ever will be That's the real reason I still squeeze and I fill these bars with so much vitriol All these voices in my head convince me, I bet that Ted Kaczynski'll feel me 'Cause I seri-al kill beats like it's real keys My peripheral sees everything, you was POVs to rap G-O-D From Little Caesars to filled arenas I made it big, word to Lil' Cease, "Fuel" remix So who'll be picked next, who's name gonna be next up? Notorious B.I.G.'s death was the domino effects of 2Pac's murder Like facial tissue, who's card should I clean next? Puff's? 'Til he's in police handcuffs, guilty, will he step up? Like gee, never turned himself in Who knows all the murders there'll have been on me next So prepare for me to not choose none of my words carefully I've been comparable to Ivan The Terrible I'll take a paraplegic and I slam his wheelchair on the cement At physical therapy treatment, then laugh hysterically These wimps are like Slim's hair when he bleached it Y'all need to lighten up, I give a fvck, I don't care in the least bit Kiss every square inch of my white rear And I guarantee that my elevator's stuck somewhere between Two levels emcee's won't ever see I spit bars so barbarically, a fvckin' parakeet wouldn't dare repeat I'll never be runnin' out of steam or kerosene, if I- If I run out of fuel, I won't What the fvck y'all gon' do if I don't Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, dow-dow-dow-dow—) That scares the fvck out of you
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