Lucky You Eminem

Lucky You

Eminem

Dawn Rhodes

121
0:00 4:02
Accordatura Standard (E A D G B E)
Tempo 4/4
Tonalità: Bbm
Capotasto:
Senza capotasto
Ritmica 1

Whole song: ↓ · ↓ ↑ ↓ · ↓ ↑ ↓ ↑ ↓ ↑ ↓ · ↓ ↑

Testo

[Intro]
Bbm     Ebm F
   Whoa,     Joyner, Joyner
Bbm Ebm     F                    Bbm
       Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day,
I admit it

[Bridge]
                         Ebm
I don't take back what I say,
                    F
if I said it then I meant it
                     Bbm
All my life I want a Grammy but I'll prolly never get it
                     Ebm                        F
I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon
                          Bbm
Fuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law,
cut the rules
                     Ebm
I'm about to risk it all,
                        F
I ain't got too much to lose
                        Bbm
Y'all been eatin' long enough,
it's my turn to cut the food
                         Ebm
Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day,
      F
lucky you
Fuck you too, woo!

[Chorus]
Bbm
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
y'all gotta move
Ebm                             F
Give me some room, give me some room,
give me the juice
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe,
hop out and shoot
Ebm                           F
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
give me the juice

[Verse 1]
Bbm
Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall
Turn my back on you, all of you finished
Ebm
Back to these bullets,
it's back to the job
        F
Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
Bbm
Back on my hood shit,
it's back to the pushin'
These packs and I'm actually pumpin'
                    Ebm
Can't fuck with you rappers,
you practically suckin'
                   F
You mighta went platinum,
but that don't mean nothin'
             Bbm
I'm actually buzzin' this time
Straight out the kitchen,
I told 'em the oven is mine
         Ebm
I do not fuck with you guys
If I don't kill you,
     F
just know you gon' suffer this time
           Bbm
I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers
Some chains and some blades and a couple of knives
             Ebm
Choppers and jammies, a partridge,
a pear tree
                  F
My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies
  Bbm
I run at you hard like a sumo sumo
They say I talk like a chulo chulo
Ebm
I  live in Mars, I'm not Bruno woo
F
Bitch I'm a dog, call me Cujo rah
Bbm
You play your cards,
I reverse on you all
And I might just drop 4 like a Uno bup
Ebm                                 F
Callate boca mejor, maricon, little puto,
and all of you culo
          Bbm
They've invented a level off in the ghetto to ghetto
Lookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now
         Ebm
Shit get relevant until the beef die down
           F
In truth a nigga just really want me tied down
           Bbm
I've been alone and I never needed nobody
Just only me and my shotty,
I'll tell these niggas to lie down
             Ebm
Keep all the money,
I never wanted the lifestyle
            F
I just pray to God that my son'll be alright now
       Bbm
I said ain't no love for the other side
Or anyone who ever want smoke Joyner
Ebm                               F
When I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost
hope
           Bbm
You in the wrong cab down the wrong path
Nigga, wrong way, wrong road
       Ebm
Snakes in the grass tryna slither fast
       F
I just bought a fuckin' lawn mower

[Bridge]
                    Bbm
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
                    Ebm7
I done won a couple Grammys but I sold my soul to get 'em
Wasn't in it for the trophies,
just the fuckin' recognition
Fuck's the difference?
         F
I'm that cracker, bend the law,
fuck the rules
Man I used to risk it all,
now I got too much to lose
I been eatin' long enough,
man my stomach should be full
I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet,
lucky me
Fuck you think? woo!

[Verse 2]
Bbm
I  got a couple of mansions
Gbmaj7/Bb
Still    I don't have any manners
Bbm
You got a couple of ghost writers
             Gbmaj7/Bb
But to these kids     it don't actually matter
        Bbm
They're askin' me,
"What the fuck happened to hiphop?"
  Gbmaj7/Bb
I said,    "I don't have any answers."
                 Bbm
'Cause I took an L  when I dropped my last album
                Gbmaj7/Bb
It hurt me like hell     but I'm back on these rappers
             Bbm
And actually comin' from humble beginnings
               Gbmaj7/Bb
I'm somewhat uncomfortable winning
                           Bbm
I wish I could say "What a wonderful feeling!"
                                Gbmaj7/Bb
We're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling
                            Bbm
But nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability
Gbmaj7/Bb
To       even stick to a subject,
it's killin' me
Bbm
The inability to pin humility
Gbmaj7/Bb
Hatata batata,
                          Bbm
why don't we make a bunch of
Fuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em!
     Gbmaj7/Bb
Fuck it,      I'm goin' for the jugular
          Bbm
Shit is a circus,
you clowns that are comin' up
              Gbmaj7/Bb
Don't give an ounce    of a motherfuck a
                        Bbm                               Gbmaj7/Bb
Bout the ones that were here before you to make raps Let's
recap, way back,
                Bbm
MC's that wreak havoc on tape decks
ADATs,
Gbmaj7/Bb
where    the G Rap's and Kane's at?
                 Bbm
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
             Ebm7
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
      F
But I think it's inevitable
They know what button to press or what lever to pull
To get me to snap though lil bitch
And if I'm payin' attention I'm probably makin' it bigger
But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fuckin' back,
ho' get it?
       Bbm
On the brink,
any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'
                Gbmaj7/Bb
Everything wit' acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits
      Bbm
I'm asleep at the wheel again
                                 Gbmaj7/Bb
As I peak into thinkin' about an evil intent
Of another beat I'ma kill again
       Bbm
'Cause even if I gotta end up eating a pill again
     Gbmaj7/Bb
Even ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin
      Bbm
It better be at least 70 to 300 milligram
Gbmaj7/Bb
And      I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain
again
Bbm
Levels to this shit, I got an elevator
                Gbmaj7/Bb
You could never say      to me I'm not a fuckin' record
breaker
               Bbm
I sound like a broken record every time I break a record
             Gbmaj7/Bb
Nobody could ever take away the legacy,
I made a navigator
Bbm
Motherfucker know I got a right to be this way
Gbmaj7/Bb                      Bbm
I        got spite inside my DNA  
                                 Gbmaj7/Bb
But I wrote 'til the wheels fall off,     I'm workin'
            F
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

[Chorus]
   Bbm
So y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
y'all gotta move
Ebm                             F
Give me some room, give me some room,
give me the juice
Bbm
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe,
hop out and shoot
Ebm                           F
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
give me the juice

Battute

[Intro]
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - |

Whoa,     Joyner, Joyner
Yeah, I done did a lot of things in my day,
I admit it

[Bridge]
        | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |

I don't take back what I say,
if I said it then I meant it
All my life I want a Grammy but I'll prolly never get it
I ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon
Fuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law,
cut the rules
I'm about to risk it all,
I ain't got too much to lose
Y'all been eatin' long enough,
it's my turn to cut the food
Pass the plate! Where my drink? This my day,
lucky you
Fuck you too, woo!

[Chorus]
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |

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

[Verse 1]
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F | Bbm - | Ebm F |

Back on my bullshit, my back to the wall
Turn my back on you, all of you finished
Back to these bullets,
it's back to the job
Pull my MAC out and all of you runnin'
Back on my hood shit,
it's back to the pushin'
These packs and I'm actually pumpin'
Can't fuck with you rappers,
you practically suckin'
You 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 fuck with you guys
If I don't kill you,
just know you gon' suffer this time
I ain't no gangster but I got some bangers
Some chains and some blades and a couple of knives
Choppers and jammies, a partridge,
a pear tree
My twelve days of Christmas was nothin' but lies
I run at you hard like a sumo sumo
They say I talk like a chulo chulo
I  live in Mars, I'm not Bruno woo
Bitch 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
Callate boca mejor, maricon, 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 shotty,
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 fuckin' lawn mower

[Bridge]
| Bbm | - | Ebm7 | - |
| F   | - | -    | - |

I done said a lotta things in my day,
I admit it
This is payback in a way,
I regret it that I did it
I done won a couple Grammys but I sold my soul to get 'em
Wasn't in it for the trophies,
just the fuckin' recognition
Fuck's the difference?
I'm that cracker, bend the law,
fuck the rules
Man I used to risk it all,
now I got too much to lose
I been eatin' long enough,
man my stomach should be full
I just ate, lick the plate, my buffet,
lucky me
Fuck you think? woo!

[Verse 2]
| Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm  Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb |
| Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm  Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb |
| Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm  Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb |
| Bbm -         | -   -         | Ebm7 -         | -   -         |
| F   -         | -   -         | Bbm  Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb |
| Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm  Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb |
| Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | Bbm Gbmaj7/Bb | F    -         | -   -         |
| -   -         | -   -         |

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 fuck happened to hiphop?"
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 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 'em!
Fuck it,      I'm goin' for the jugular
Shit is a circus,
you clowns that are comin' up
Don't give an ounce    of a motherfuck a
Bout the ones that were here before you to make raps 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 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 to snap though lil bitch
And if I'm payin' attention I'm probably makin' it bigger
But you've been takin' ya dicks in the fuckin' back,
ho' get it?
On the brink,
any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'
Everything wit' 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 eating 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 a navigator
Motherfucker 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

[Chorus]
                | Bbm - | Ebm F |
| Bbm - | Ebm F |

So y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
y'all gotta move
Give me some room, give me some room,
give me the juice
Hop out the coupe, hop out the coupe,
hop out and shoot
Y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move,
give me the juice

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