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8 Mile Soundtrack Album Lyrics



8 Mile Soundtrack Lyrics






Eminem - Lose Yourself

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

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 forgetting 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 chokin' now
The clock's run out, times 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 easy, no, he won't have it he knows
His whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter he's dope
He knows that but he's broke, he so stagnant that he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's
Back to the lab again, yo
This whole rhapsody better go capture this moment
And hope it don't pass him

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 life-time, yo

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 life-time, yo

His souls escaping, through this hole that is gaping
This world is mine for the taking, make me king
As we move toward a new world order, a normal life is boring
But superstardom's close to post mortem
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
He blows it's all over, these hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he's known 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 'cause here goes the cold water
These hoes don't want him no mo', he's cold product
They moved on to the next shmo' who flows, he nose dove, and sold nada
So the soap opera's told and unfolds, I suppose it's old partner
But the beat goes on da da dum da dum da da

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 life-time, yo

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 life-time, yo

No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this mother f*ckin roof off like 2 dogs caged
I was playin in the beginning, the mood all changed
I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin' and step writin' 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 nine to five
And I can't provide the right type'a
Life for my family 'cause man
These goddamn 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
Teetertotter caught up between 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 day of monotony
Has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail I've got
To formulate a plot or end up in jail or shot
Success is my only motherf*ckin' option, failure's not
Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot,
So here I go with my shot, feet fail me not
This maybe the only opportunity that I got

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 life-time, yo

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 life-time, yo

You can do anything you set your mind to man.
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jeffrey Irwin Bass, Marshall B Mathers, Luis Edgardo Resto
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Eminem - Love Me

[ Featuring Obie Trice, 50 Cent ]

[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 motherf*ckin mouth
And show me love bitch...

[Chorus: Obie Trice]
I just wanna love you for the rest of my life, (I don't 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 f*cking 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 f*cking 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CURTIS JAMES JACKSON, OBIE TRICE, MARSHALL B. III MATHERS, LUIS EDGARDO RESTO, STEVEN LEE KING
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave




Eminem - 8 Mile

[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 split
Man f*ck this shit yo, I'm goin the f*ck home
World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road

[Chorus]
I'm a man, I'm a make a new plan
Time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
Time for me to just take matters into my own hands
Once I'm over these tracks man I'm a 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
Ain't gon' follow the footsteps I'm making 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 pigeon holed in 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'm a 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 f*ck 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
At 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
From each one of my limbs, by each on of my friends
It's enough to just make me 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]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: LUIS RESTO, MARSHALL MATHERS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Obie Trice - Adrenaline Rush

Get the f*ck up, motherf*cker

Hey yo, when i step up on the bar
everybody hits the f*ckin floor
lucky motherf*ckers make it to the door
cause when i spit on the mics, i spit raw
which cause confusion, from the bar to the dance floor
i keep the club on the vex
cause he got a penny when i spit and replace a lot of shit
niggas get the wildin
when my words, echo the room like "Get yo hand outta my pocket"
you sock shit, when my topics rockin
im banned from clubs cause of my toxic tonsils
loud, speakin like a f*ckin sports announcer
i spit the blah hah, till you rush the bouncer
or rush the motherf*cker in your way whos bouncin
you know obie trice, keeps those gats pronouncin

[Chorus]

Get live motherf*cka, when i speak motherf*cka
out ya seat mothaf*cka, out my reach mothaf*cka
shady records till i sleep mothaf*cka
obie trice, nothin but street mothaf*cka
tear this bitch up, until you bleed mothaf*cka
i wouldnt give a f*ck who you be mothaf*cka
punk, pussy, bitch or g mothaf*cka
adrenaline rush before you leave mothaf*cka

when i speak, i blow out ya tweeters, im dark
show out in speakers, roll out with heaters
im just an animal, eatin the game
jungle monkey, f*ck yah obies the name
i roll solo, never been a holdo
keep gats fo fo, when cats act loco
where you at when im movin a crowd
you get trampled, mashed on, detroit style
up out ya seats, pump out the ease
off the beats, the crowd obie please
where my niggas at smokin them trees
off the cogniac, finger f*ckin a sleeze
thats how it is when you party with me
you dont like it, you l seven like a square beat

[Chorus]

Ever since i came, i rearranged the place with blaze
stage dive with coke ceivers, dna
im so addicted to gettin niggas lifted
drunk off of liquid
obie trice, the misfit
doucin the crowd with piss and brows
we underground mothaf*cka, fix your frowns
i be the boy with the whiskey tour
off of wiskey, youve never been this deep before
so, throw up ya hands and peep out yo mans
when i come through, next quarter
trice that the fiends use
and trust, im attackin it
i cook up the hot shit like ainslee havin it
thats why im so miraculous
and obie gets you niggas pumped up
i see you next collisiem chump
thats right, you come to obie trice f*cked up
of ease, drunk, weed

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andy Thelusma, Obie Trice
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management




50 Cent - Places To Go

yeah

Shady
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 f*ckin teach you a lesson,
RAP 101's in session Em lace the track that I'm blessin,
smith and wesson'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,
motherf*ckers 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 that, 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 Perignon
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 pimp hat
Picture me starting shit, picture me busting my gat,
picture police mad they aint 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, holla back
50 Cent, too much henny, 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 motherf*ckin bill thug shit,
Ha ha ha ha ha,
ain't seem to be doing much...
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CURTIS JAMES JACKSON, MARSHALL B. III MATHERS, LUIS EDGARDO RESTO
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group




D12 - Rap Game

[ Featuring 50 Cent ]

[Bizarre]
The rap game, hip hop 101
The hardest nine to five you'll ever have
You can't learn this shit in no history book
You ready to rap motherf*cker?
You ready to sell your soul? hahaha
The rap game will f*ck you up

[Swifty McVay]
I'ma disrupted nigga, you made me crazy
You shoulda slayed me as a baby
Behavin' shadier than Wes Craven
And you ain't even gotta pay me
I take pleasure of layin' a nigga down daily
You face me, punk it's over, you'll faint fast
I've never f*cked up to where I can't whoop ya ass
You'll neck'll get snapped with bare hands, f*ck music
Is he rappin'? It's cool but fools, just don't confuse it
What happens: these dudes get rude then I lose it
I'm scandalous, I blow ya two niggas off the atlas
With a gat that's bigger than Godzilla's back nigga
You are not realer, in fact you're feel the effects
Of a crack dealer, y'all presidents since he smacked
And got a mack 10 with it, so I ain't gotta rap
But I'm thankful for that, don't mistakin' me black
Cuz you'll be stankin' in the back of a f*ckin' Cadillac

[Eminem]
I'ma get snuffed, cuz I ain't said enough to pipe down
I pipe down, when the (White House) just wiped out
When I see that little (Cheney) dike get sniped out
Lights out, bitch adios, goodnight [gunshot] (AHH!)
Now put that in ya little pipe and bite down
Think for a minute cuz the hype just died down
That I won't go up in the Oval Office right now
And flip whatever ain't tied down upside down
I'm all for America, f*ck the government
Tell that C. Delores Tucker slut to suck a dick
Motherf*ck ducked, what the f*ck? son of a bitch
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks of this trade
Switchblade, with a little switch to switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword or sensai
Shit just don't change to this day
I'm this way, still tell that utslay itchbay
Ucksay my ikcday, 'scuse my igpay atinlay
But uckfay you igpay

[Chorus: 50 Cent] [sung]
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin' you, no it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game

[Kon Artist]
I wouldn't wanna be drinkin', drowned in my own inequity
But f*cked that I'ma rap 'til y'all all get sick of me
And clutch my nuts sack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, f*ck the dogs you sic on me
I'm sayin' you motherf*ckers don't know us, quit playin'
If I'm broke, then I'm breakin' up in the place where you layin'
You know, same shit every nigga done in his life
I look at this, why speak on when I want when I write
So why should I ever fear another man
If he bleed like I bleed, take a piss and he stand?
OK, you win, you can say we can't rap
But no Source never made me not buy an album when they say it was whack

[Kuniva]
I walk in that party and just start bussin' [gunshots and screaming]
Right after I hear the last verse of "Self Destruction"
This liquor makes me wanna blast the chrome
To let you know +The Time+ without Morris Day and Jerome (nigga)
I'm low down and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
Ya feelin' lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuckie Cheese
With ya seed, you be an unlucky G
My lifestyle is unstable, a partyin' addict
They said no fightin' in the club so I brought me a 'matic
Coughin' the static, I jump niggas, call me a rabbit
Poppin' the tablet and guns to soften my habit

[Chorus: 50 Cent] [sung]
Believe me, we run this rap shit, fo sheezy
Make makin' millions look easy
Everywhere you turn you see me, you hear me
Believe me, before you see my pistol in 3-D
No time to call a peace treaty
Dial 911 cuz you need the- police to help you believe me

[Proof]
I snatch the chalk from the sidewalk and piss on the curb
This is absurd, these street niggas twistin' my words
We finally could "Say Goodbye to Hollywood"
Cuz Proof and Shyne man shit nothin' in common
The nastiest band with gas in each hand
We never bow down to be a flash in the pan
No remorse, f*ck ya stature dog
Nothin' to do with hands when I clap at y'all
Put your jaw on the ground with the four and the pound
Then I'm gone outta town 'fore the law come around
So we can battle with raps, we can battle with gats
Matter of fact, we can battle for plaques (This rap game)

[Bizarre]
I'm too f*ckin' retarded
I don't give a f*ck about my dick
That's why I'm datin' Lorraina Bobbet
My crew had an argument, who was the largest
Now they all is dead and I roll as a solo artist
Plus I made all the beats and wrote all the raps
Well I really didn't, but I did accordin' to this contract
I was thrown in the snow with nowhere to go
Freezin' 20 below, forced to join Bel Biv Devoe
My little girl, she shouldn't listen to these lyrics
That's why I glued her headphones to her ear to make sure she hear it
If rap don't work, I'm startin' a group with Garth Brooks
Hahahaha, 50 sing the hook

[Chorus: 50 Cent] [sung]
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
And I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm tellin' you, know it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't sellin' my soul for this rap game
I ain't diggin' no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: VON M CARLISLE, DE SHAUN DUPREE HOLTON, RUFUS JOHNSON, ONDRE C MOORE, DENAUN M PORTER
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Jay-Z - 8 Miles And Runnin

[ Featuring Freeway ]

[Jay-Z]
Yeah, Renegades is back
Em the B the sick
It's Young, Freeway, 8 Miles, let's go

8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs
But I can rewind the calendar back, back when it was now or nothin'
People said I would amount to nothin', that I had talent for nothin'
Said I would succumb to violence or be silenced by your gunmen
I could just hear the folks now, "He got what he had coming"
Now that my eighth album's comin' everybody's smilin'
Wantin' something, claimin' that they done something for him
Got their Jay-Z pom poms and their whole uniform
Claimin' they been runnin' and tellin' everybody like Martin Lawerence
'Bout how hot my rap performance 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 everybody was suin' us
I didn't see you in all black when everybody was suitin' up
Back on the block, gettin' it in, there wasn't no you with us

[Chorus: Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs
[Jay-Z]
8 miles and running, got my 7th album droppin'
And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free
[Freeway]
6 miles and running, got my fist strip poppin'
And my first album comin', feedin' twenty growlin' stomachs

[Freeway]
6 miles and running in the Pontiac
Six thousand eighty six, trans might shift while the engine run
Anyone tell ya rider give me one more chance
Hear them smokers screamin' "One more gram"
So I'ma bring 'em one
Homie, son, and my pop, stick close to my MOMMA
Keep toasters for DRAMA, mix a lot with my son
My son growin' and he learnin' a lot
That's when them toasters will the burners will pop, brain on ya own
Well a nigga, tell 'em niggas
That's like the biblical scripture
Look back, turn assault like the sin is in
Most of ya heartless and self-centered like "Me Shaq and me Shaq"
Set up ya brother cuz you jealous nigga
The heat back, like you never left
I ever rep, cops watch every step
Six miles and running dodgin' every trap
The rap gingerbread man, cheer us up
You precious breath, State P the second attack

[Chorus]

[Jay-Z]
Back when nobody would found he had talent, nobody would sign me
Nobody believed in me, nobody but mommy blindly
But how can she deny me? Me being the youngest runt
To come up outta her tummy, she got nothin' but love for me
When niggas would want me, the industry shunned me
That's why I'm takin' all the industry's money
Revenge is sweet honey, we run this
Young is the illsest, Free is the future
Bean's and Bleek is right now, we can see our 8 miles nigga

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: SHAWN CARTER, MARSHALL B III MATHERS, LESLIE PRIDGEN, LUIS RESTO
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Xzibit - Spit Shine

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 f*ck with gay shit,
So i guess that means I cant f*ck 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 motherf*cker 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...

(f*ck 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 f*ck 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Macy Gray - Time Of My Life

When they come like left for day
I bet not in my head
And now I wanna be bigger, bein' here with you
It's not so hard to be
I can see in my dream, I know I'm gonna be better
My friends always say

[Hook]
My friends always say..ey..ae.
That every thing will be ok
But it don't always work out that way
Show in my famagam'
Me living in, cuz I'll remember when baby

[Chorus]
I am.., the top of my life
Everything is right, with you
After all that I'd been through (yeah)
I ain't try to loose
This times of my life, with you
When they come like left for day
I bet not in my head
And now I wanna be bigger, bein' here with you
It's not so hard to be
I can see in my dreams, I know I'm gonna be better
My friends always say

[Hook]
My friends always say...
That every thing will be ok
But it don't always work out that way
So here I am again,
Believin in, cuz I remember when baby

[Chorus]
I've had, the time of my life,
Everything is right, with you
After all that I've been through (yeah)
I ain't try to loose
This time of my life, with you
Baby I've had

You'll say I'm outta line
So much on my mind
Like I wanna be bigger
Sometimes it don't rhyme
But when you're here with me (here with me)
I have all the tree (all the tree)
I know I wanna be better
My friends always say

[Hook]
My friends always say...
That every thing will be ok
But it don't always work out that way
So here I am again,
Believin in, cuz I remember when baby

[Chorus]
I've had, the time of my life,
Everything is right, with you
After all that I've been through (yeah)
I ain't try to lose
This time of my life, with you
Baby I've had

One day they will see
It'll shine on at me
Finally see me smile, hear me laughing (at last)
At last You'll be hurt
Cuz long long time upserve
Now hope you hear
Baby baby I've had....

[Chorus]
I've had, the time of my life,
Everything is right, with you
After all that I've been through (yeah)
I ain't try to lose
This time of my life, with you
Baby I've had

I've had, the time of my life
Everything is right, with you
Baby take my hand
Cuz I wanna go on too
This time of my life, with you
Baby

[Repeat till fade..]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MICHAEL A. ELIZONDO, MACY GRAY, DANTE ROSS, INC. ZOMBA SONGS
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management




Nas - U Wanna Be Me

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 f*ckin 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 f*ckin 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 f*ck 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
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CARL THOMPSON, NASIR JONES, TONY LONG
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group




50 Cent - Wanksta

[Intro: Busta Rhymes]
Yeah.. it's a problem, Flipmode nigga
We on the highest temperature level of the f*cking pressure cooker
Blowing niggas tops, what?
Flipmode up in this bitch, The Rulership Movement nigga
Check it, let me talk, check it, check it

[Busta Rhymes]
There's only one God sonny, and there ain't no replacement
And anybody thinkin different jus get locked in the basement
You know we had to touch the beat cuz the track is dope, nigga
And throw some bullet's at you the size of cantaloupes, nigga
A lotta niggas rollin around like they can't get touched
Even the pope know to stay in bullet proof Benz trucks
Flipmode up in this bitch, ya niggas know we on fire
We hang niggas like old sneakers from telephone wires

[Rampage]
Puerto Rican mami's call me Papi
Cuz they see me in the hood, poppin wheelies on my Kawasaki
Yo they can't stop me, Ramp yo, I'm kinda cocky
I'll break your f*cking ribs like I'm playing ice hockey
Bigger than life, extort the game, critically acclaimed
Smack you in your face with my chain
Now I'm ready to go to war like Saddam Hussein
Everybody in the industry know my squad's name

[Chorus 1: Busta Rhymes]
Yo we jus an idiot, and we here to merge somethin
You know what chu dealing with, you know we here to hurt somethin
So stop with the stupid shit, cuz it ain't even worth frontin
Hope you know that you could really end up in the earth cuzin

[50 Cent]
We do this all the time, right now we on the grind
So hurry up and cop and go selling nicks and dimes
Shorty she's so fine, I gotta make her mine
A ass like dat gotta be one of a kind
I crush 'em every time, punch 'em with every line
I'm f*ckin with they mind, I make 'em press rewind
They know they can't shine if I'm around the rhyme
Been on parole since ninety four cuz I commit the crime
I say you on my line, I did it three ta nine
If D's ran up in my crib, you know who droppin dimes

[Chorus 2: 50 Cent]
You say you a gangsta but you neva pop nuttin
We say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin
You go to the dealership but you neva cop nuttin
You been hustlin a long time and you ain't got nuttin

[Baby Sham]
I know your man, he says that you the bitch stuntin
You don't know how the gun cock to reach somethin
Yeah, I see ya face in ya grill
But it's your conscience itchin to tell you the squad love a mil
Like a forest field, we hunt ta god, it's surreal
Flipmode, cop boy, get your weight up for real, get at 'em

[Chorus 1]

[Chorus 2]

[50 Cent]
Damn homie, in highskewl you was the man, homie
What the f*ck happened to you?
I got the sickest vendetta, when it come to the chedda
Nigga you play wit my paper, you gon meet my berretta
Now shorty think I'ma sweat her, sippin on amoretta
I'm hit once than deada, I know I can do betta
She look good but I know she after my chedda
She tryna get in my pockets homie and I ain't gon let her
Be easy, start some bullshit ya get your whole crew wet
We in the club doin the same ol' two step
Guerrilla Unit cuz, they say we bugged out
Cuz we don't go nowhere without toast, we thugged out

[Chorus 2 x2]

[50 Cent]
Ah ha!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOHN FREEMAN, CURTIS JAMES JACKSON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group




Boomkat - Wasting My Time

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
(La, da, da, da, da, da, da, da)
You give me just enough to hang on and on

When you're just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time

Ohh
(La, da, da, da, da, da, da, da)
Do you hear me when I say, ohh
(Da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da)

So let me ask ya somethin', mmh
Do you think I'm pretty or don't you?
Do you wanna get with me or not?
And ahh, yeah

Are you're just wasting my time?
(Can't go on like this no more)
You're simply wasting my time
(Can't be just another girl)
So quit wasting my time
(Wasting, wasting)

And what've you got to say?
Well things have got to change
See this just isn't right
I don't wanna have to fight
And I think I'd better go
'Cause this ain't working anymore
And I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
Ohh, ohh

Understand
That what you did was just not so cool
Baby, you're just not that cool
Hmm, ooh, mhm
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Taryn Manning
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




Rakim - R.A.K.I.M.

Ra! [x7]

[Chorus: x2]
[R:] Rugged and rough that's how I do it
[A:] Allah who I praise to the fullest
[K:] Keep it moving, I: Stand alone
[M:] It's my crown, my world, my throne

[Verse 1]
Aiyyo when Rakim Allah attack, it's a wrap y'all relax
The arm in that, you show me where the party's at
Seminars and tracks, hors, comas, and cardiacs
Broads and cats screaming "Oh my God he's back"
Just imagine, I hit the lab and get it crackin'
A thousand styles in one verse, rhythms will switch patterns
Chicks get stabbed in the back, till they get spasms
Known to spit a magnum, or split an atom
Who woulda known that Jesus would come back to the ghetto
On that level, and that thorough, like a black hero
And pack metal, so rap rebels, will back pedal
The pharaoh of five boroughs, and take over the rap world
Gettin' bizarre, hardcore, this is for y'all
The crib or the park, play it when you get in the car
Chill at the bar, sip somethin' or split a cigar
Get with your dogs, don't be alarmed, this kid is the bomb

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Uh, yeah yo, I used to paint this flow, on ancient scrolls
And learn ta, make this dough, where gangstas roll
Think like the late great Capone when the bank is closed
It's cats that claim they bold, but they ain't this cold
I'm from New York City even pretty chicks act up
Niggas get clapped up, you stack up, they stick that up
Put the strap up, you think my name was "Kid back up"
Big niggas (spittin' noise) pick that up, or lift that up
Raised by gangstas and gamblers, hustlers, con artists
And convicts, killers and dons
Drug dealers, playas and pimps, smooth talkers
Stick up kids, thugs, real niggas and gods
Haunted by every soul that lay dead in the turf
Close by every spirit, that never made it to birth
Since the Moon separated from Earth
That's why they say I'm the greatest that ever orchestrated a verse
It's the

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Ay yo, we toast to that, it's the cat that broke backs
To a soul slap, a smoke a track, how dope is that
Poet for rap, wrote backs that most slack,
That know rap before they turned coke to crack
To my dogs hearin' sirens on and firearms
Outcome die in wars or behind iron bars
The boulevard, tire frauds when I evolve
Try and rob, my dialogue, I am God
Chicks moan just to get next to my throne
And sniff my cologne and get Ra alone
Sex spot's at home, I'm testosterone
Caress spots, stress drops, bedrock's the bone
Hit the floor, it's hot for 2003
Hit's galore, who rock a style as wild as me
Rest assure, when I rock dance crowds and scream
Bis-Mi-Allah A-Rahman A-Rahim it's the

[Chorus x6]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DENAUN M PORTER, WILLIAM GRIFFIN, LAWRENCE KING
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC




Young Zee - Thats My Nigga Fo Real

[Young Zee]
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 f*ck 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
F*ck 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 f*ck 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)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DANTE ROSS, DEWAYNE BATTLE
Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Gang Starr - Battle

Gangstarr (gang Starr) - Battle
{*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"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Samuel Barnes, Jermaine Baxter, Shalena Bratcher, Freddie Byrd, Percy Chapman, Keith Elam, Kiam Holley, Albert Johnson, Nasir Jones, Asia Louis, Chris Martin, Corey Mckay, Shawn Moltke, Ryan Montgomery, Kejuan Muchita, Jean Olivier, Marlon Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, NIKKI POO MUSIC




Eminem - Rabbit Run

[Eminem:]
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks
Every time I go to get up I just fall in piss
My life's like one great big ball of shit
If I could just, put it all into all I spit
Instead of always tryin to swallow it
Instead of starin at this wall and shit
While I sit writer's block, sick of all this shit
Can't call it, shit
All I know is I'm about to hit the wall
If I have to see another one of mom's alcholic fits
This is it, last straw, that's all, that's it
I ain't dealin with another f*ckin politic
I'm like a skillet bubblin until it filters up
I'm about to kill it, I can feel it buildin up
Blow this buildin up, I've been sealed enough
My cup, runneth over, I done filled it up
The pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts
You think, all I do is stand here and feel my nuts?
Well I'm a show you what, you gon' feel my rush
You don't feel it, then it must be too real to touch
Peal the dutch, I'm about to tear shit up
Goosebumps yea, I'm a make your hair sit up
Yea sit up, I'm a tell you who I be
I'm a make you hate me, cause you ain't me
You wait, it ain't too late to finally see
What you closed-minded f*cks were too blind to see
Whoever finds me is gonna get a finder's fee
Out this world, ain't no one out there mind as me
You need piece of mind? Here's a piece of mine
All I need's a line
But sometimes I don't always find the words to rhyme
To express how I'm really feelin at that time
Yea sometimes sometimes sometimes
It's just sometimes, it's always me
How dark can these hallways be?
The clock strikes midnight, one-two, then half past three
This half-assed rhyme with this half-assed piece of paper
{*rip*} I'm desperate at my desk
If I can just get the rest of the shit off my chest again
Stuck in this slum, can't think of nothin
F*ck I'm stumped, but wait, here comes somethin
{*crumples paper*} Nope, it's not good enough, scribble it out
New pad, crinkle it up, and throw the shit out
I'm fizzlin now, thought I figured it out
Ball's 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 trade?
Signed out of spit to the grave
Real enough to rill you up
Want me to flip it I can rip it any style you want
I'm a switch hitter bitch, Jimmy Smits ain't a quitter
I'm a sit until I get enough in me to finally hit a
F*ckin boilin point, put some oil in your joints
Flip the coin bitch, come get destroyed
An MC's worst dream, I make 'em tense
They hate me, see me and shake like a chainlink fence
By the looks of 'em, you would swear their jaws was comin
By the screams of 'em, you would swear I'm sawin someone
By the way they're runnin, you would swear the law was comin
It's now or never and tonight is all or nothin
Momma Jimmy keeps leavin 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
F*ck this clock, I'm a make 'em eat this watch
Don't believe me watch, I'm a win this race
And I'm a come back and rub my shit in your face, bitch
I found my nitch, you gon' hear my voice
'Til you sick of it, you ain't gonna have a choice
If I gotta scream 'til I have half a lung
If I had half a chance I'd grab it - Rabbit, run
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




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8 Mile: Music from and Inspired by the Motion Picture is the official soundtrack album to the 2002 film of the same name. The album, performed by various artists, was released by Universal Pictures' then subsidiary Universal Music, through Interscope and Shady/Aftermath. It spawned the hit single "Lose Yourself" by Eminem, who also stars in the semi-autobiographical movie.

The album also spawned a follow-up soundtrack, More Music from 8 Mile, consisting of songs that appear in the film and were released as singles during the film's time setting of 1995. One of the songs was performed by 2Pac, who would be the subject of a documentary with a soundtrack produced by Eminem, who also produced a posthumous album by 2Pac. The album also features four songs by Wu-Tang Clan and its members, and two songs by Mobb Deep, who eventually signed to G-Unit Records. Both albums were also made available in censored versions, removing most of the strong language and sexual and violent content.

8 Mile: Music from and Inspired by the Motion Picture debuted at number one on the Billboard 200, selling over 700,000 copies in its first week. It sold 510,000 copies in its second week and eventually became the fifth best-selling album in the US of 2002, with sales of 3.4 million copies. It is certified sextuple platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). The album featured the universal number-one hit "Lose Yourself", which won the Oscar for Best Original Song.
Genre(s): Hip hop
Producer(s): Eminem, Chucky Thompson, Dante Ross, DJ Premier, Guru, Jeff Bass, John Gamble, J-Praize, Kellin Manning, Luis Resto, Martin Pradler, Mel-Man, Mike Elizondo, Mr. Porter, Nas, Red Spyda, Sha Money XL
Length: 68:10
Released: October 29th, 2002
Year: 2002

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