Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Song: Lose Yourself
Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted…One moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
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 jokin now
The clock’s run out, time’s 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
Is he? No
He won’t have it , he knows his whole back city’s ropes
It don’t matter, he’s dope
He knows that, but he’s broke
He’s so stacked that he knows
When he goes back to his mobile home, that’s when it’s
Back to the lab again yo
This whole rap shit
He better go capture this moment and hope it don’t pass him
Chorus X2
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 lifetime yo
The soul’s escaping, through this hole that it’s gaping
This world is mine for the taking
Make me king, as we move toward a, new world order
A normal life is borin, but superstardom’s close to post mortar
It only grows harder, only grows hotter
He blows its all over, these hoes is all on him
Coast to coast shows, he’s know 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 cuz here goes the cold water
These ho's don’t want him no mo, he’s cold product
They moved on to the next schmoe who flows
He nose dove and sold nada
So the soap opera is told and unfolds
I suppose it’s old potna, but the beat goes on
Da da dum da dum da da
Chorus X2
No more games, I’ma change what you call rage
Tear this mothafuckin roof off like 2 dogs caged
I was playin in the beginnin, the mood all changed
I been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhymin and stepwritin 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 9 to 5
And I can’t provide the right type of life for my family
Cuz man, these goddam 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
Teeter totter, 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 monotomy
Has gotten me to the point, I’m like a snail
I’ve got to formulate a plot fore I end up in jail or shot
Success is my only mothafuckin option, failure’s not
Mom, I love you, but this trailer has got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem’s lot
So here I go is my shot.
Feet fail me not cuz maybe the only opportunity that I got
Chorus X2
You can do anything you set your mind to, man
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Obie Trice/ Eminem/ 50 Cent
Song: Love Me
[intro]
You dont see me in the hood
its because im doin this man
[Obie Trice]
Niggas im still grindin
im still hearin those sirens
im still gettin chased by those lights
only the lights, slime and my mics on
and my time is none, because im writing more
and i aint here to meet a soul in this business
im here to eat and speak until these ho's feel this
and i cant let ya'll derail me man
i got young kobie homie, you gotta let go of obie
because obie be back
we got them craps goin on, and that yack goin on
soon as a nigga touch down, back from torn
its whatever, put that on the cheddar man
but in the mean time, its jimmy iveen time
chased cheese rhyme till my voice give out
this is it my niggaz, this what we boast about
now im here, so shut your mother fuckin mouth
and show me love bitch
Chorus X2
I just wanna love ya
for the rest of my life
i wanna hold you in the morn'
hold you through the night
[Eminem]
Theres a certain mystique, when i speak
that you notice that sort of unique
cause you know its me, my poetry's deep
and im still mad at the way i flow to this beat
you cant sit still
its like trying to smoke crack and go to sleep
im strapped, its knowin any minute, i could snap
im the equivelent if what would happen if bush rapped
i bully these rappers so bad, lyrically
it aint even funny, i aint even hungry
it aint even money, you cant pay me enough
for you to play me, its cockamayne
you just aint zaney enough, to rock with shady
my noodle is cockadoodle, my clock is coucou
i got screws loose, yah the whole kit n caboodle
im just brutal, its not rumour, im numeral uno
assume it, theres no humour in it, no more you know
im 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 X2
[50 Cent]]
My boys is crazy in the hood,
they holler my name
if it aint about the flow its bout the stones and the chain
if i was you, i'd love me too, i roll like a boss
911 porsche, same color as cranberry sauce
i aint goin front, i thought r kelly was the shit
let me find out, he fucked around with bow wow bitch
niggaz eatin popcorn, right rewinding and the tape
now shory momma in the precinct, hollerin rape
im convinced man, theres something really wrong with these hos
i thought lil kim was hot till she started fuckin with her nose
i used to listen to lauren hill, and tap my feet
then the bitch put out a cd and didnt have no beat
that boy d'angelo, hes determined not to fail
that nigga went bald ass for his record to sell
my back shots are help ashanti hit them high note
and big ben taught charlie b moore to deep throat
Chorus X2
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Eminem
Song: 8 Mile
Sometimes I just feel like - quittin, I still might
why do I put up this fight? why do I still write?
sometimes its hard enough just dealing with real life
sometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics
and show these people what my level of skills like
but I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life
something ain't right, hit the break lights
facing this stage fright, drawing a blank like
"uhh da da da duhh it ain't my fault
cry-ing eye balls, my inside crawl"
And I clam up I just slam shut, I just can't do it
my whole manhoods just been stripped
I have just been evict so I must in get
hope to bust in, split, man fuck this shit
yo- I'm going the fuck home
world on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road
(Chorus)
I'm a man, Ima make a new plan
time for me to just stand up, and travel new land
time for me to just take matters in to my own hands
once on move on from these track, I'll never look back (8 Mile Road)
and I'm gone, and I know right where I'm going
sorry mama I'm grown I must travel alone
ain't gonna follow no footsteps, I'm making my own
only way I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road
Walking these train tracks, trying to regain back
the spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap
to the same plant, in the same pants
trying to chase rap, gotta move A-SAP
get a new plan, mamas 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 till the crayon gets dull in her hand
while she colors her big brother and mother and dad
ain't no telling what really goes on in her little head
wish I could be the daddy that niether one of us had
but I keep running from something I never wanted so bad
sometimes I get upset, cause I ain't blew up yet
it's like I grew but I ain't grown these two nuts yet
don't gotta rep my step, don't got enough pep
the pressures too much man Im just trying to do what's best
and I try, sit alone and cry, yo I'm on telling god
not a moment goes by, that I don't prey to the sky
please I'm beggin you god, please don't let me be pigeon holding no regular job
yo I hope you can hear me homey, wherever you are
yo I'm telling you dawg, I bailing this trailor tomarrow
tell my mother I love her and kiss baby sister goodbye
say "whenever you need me baby I'm never 2 far"
but yo I got to get out there, the only way I know
And I'ma 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)
You got to live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it
don't see what the big deal is...
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Obie Trice
Song: Adrenaline Rush
Get the fuck up, motherfucker
Hey yo, when i step up on the bar
everybody hits the fuckin floor
lucky motherfuckers 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 fuckin sports announcer
i spit the blah hah, till you rush the bouncer
or rush the motherfucker in your way whos bouncin
you know obie trice, keeps those gats pronouncin
[Chorus]
Get live motherfucka, when i speak motherfucka
out ya seat mothafucka, out my reach mothafucka
shady records till i sleep mothafucka
obie trice, nothin but street mothafucka
tear this bitch up, until you bleed mothafucka
i wouldnt give a fuck who you be mothafucka
punk, pussy, bitch or g mothafucka
adrenaline rush before you leave mothafucka
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, fuck 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 fuckin 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 mothafucka, 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 fucked up
of ease, drunk, weed
[Chorus]
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: 50 cent
Song: Places To Go
[Chorus X2]
I've got places to go
I've got people to see
The penitentiry, aint the place for me
No warning you do, not to me
I run up n squeeze and put a hole in you
You aint mistakin me for someone you should be testin'
you should be stressin, imma fuckin teach you a lesson
rap 101s in session, n lace the track that im blessin
smith and wesson is the weapon, in cause you was guessin
kept in my benz, hop in again in the end
watch the 22s spin, my hos they a perfect 10
i got shot up, but i got up and im back at it again
mothafuckas that thought i wouldnt win, pretend to be friends
if at first you fail, try, try, try, try again
im the best, dont you get it forget it
when i spit it, its crazy
if you love it, admit it
you like that i live it, its shady
aftermath in yo ass bitch
if its not a classic
when its done we'll just trash it
though i got it mastered
step and get you ass kicked, bastard
when measures get drastic
___ made of plastic
cock it, aim it, blast it
run the gun and stash it
[Chorus X2]
If there is a genie in the bottle of that don perion
imma drink till i get that bitch
Picture a perfect picture
picture me in a pimp hat
picture me startin shit
picture me bustin my gat
picture police man, they aint got a picture of that
picture me bein broke
picture me smokin the sack
picture me comin up
picture me rich from rags
picture me blowin up
now picture me goin back
to my mommas basement to live
man picture that
where its from, its a fact
you gotta watch yo back
you wear a vest without a gat
you's a target jack
hustle hard, money stay
sell that dope, sell that crack
sell that pack, sell that gat
sell that pussy in the back
50 cent, too much change
man im bent, im outta here
[Chorus x2]
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: D12/50 Cent
Song: Rap Game
[Bizarre]
`The Rap Game`
Hip-hop 1-0-1
The hardest 9 to 5 you will ever have
You can’t learn this sh*t in no history book
You ready to rap mother f*cker?
You ready to sell your soul…heh heh heh
`The Rap Game` .. mother f*cker
[Swifty]
I’m a disruptive nigger
You made me crazy
You should a slayed me as a baby
Behavin shadier than Wes Craven
And you aint even gotta pay me
I take pleasure of layin a nigga down daily
You face me drunk of sober
You’ll faint fast
I’m never f*cked up to where I can’t whoop your ass
Your neck will get snapped wit bear hands…f*ck music
Is he rappin is cool but fool don’t confuse it
What happens these dudes get rude and then I lose it
Im scantlas
I blow your two kids off the atlas
With a gat that’s bigger
Then Godzilla’s back nigga
You are not real and in fact
Your fruity effect of a crack dealer
Yall president sends me smack
Den got a mack 10 wit it
So I aint gotta rap
But im thankful for that
dont mistaken me black
Or u be stankin in back of a f*ckin cadilac
[Eminem]
Ima get snuffed
Cause I aint said enough to pipe down
I pipe down when the white house is whipped out
when I see that lil cheany dike get snipped out
lights out b*tch adios goodnight
now put that in your lil pipe and bite down
think for a minute cause the hype has died down
that I wont 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. Doloris Tucker slut to suck a d*ck
mutha f*cker duck what the f*ck son of a b*tch
take away my gun and I’m a tuck some other sh*t
cant tell me sh*t about the tricks of this trade
switch blade with a lil switch to switch blades
switch from a 6 to a 16 inch blade
sh*ts like a samurai sword a sensei
sh*t just don’t change to this day
im this way still till I utslay itchbay
ucksay my ickday
scuse my igpay atinlay
but uckfay a igpay
[50 Cent]
this rap game
this rap game
I aint sellin my soul for this rap game
I aint digging a whole for this rap game
but im telling ya no it aint happ-ning
this rap game
this rap game
I aint sellin my soul for this rap game
I aint digging a whole for this rap game
this rap game
this rap game
[Kon Artis]
i bet u rather me
drink n drown in my own eniquity
but f*ck that ima rap till u all get sick of me
and clutch my nut sack and spit on who pick on me
im hittin a rock next f*ck a dogg who sickin me
im sayin you mutha f*ckers dont know and quit playin
if im broke then im brakin open the place where you layin
you know
same sh*t every nigga done in his life
i lived it thats why i speak on what i want when i write
so why... should i...
fear another man if he bleed like i bleed take a piss an he stand
ok
you win... you can say we cant rap
but no source never mean we aint buyin on what they say is wack
[Kuniva]
i walk in the party and just start bustin
right after i hear the last verse im self-destruction
this liquor make me wanna blast the chrome
to let you know that time without more is getting jerome
im low down and shifty
quickly called swifty
to do a drive by on a 10-speed with "50"
you feelin lucky? squeeze
i catch you outside of chucky cheese
well just see, who be an unlucky G
my life style is unstable
a partyin attic
they said no fighting in the club so i brought me a matic
coughin estatic
i jump niggas call me a rabbit
popin a tablet
and guns that saw you in half
[50 cent]
beleive me
we run this rap sh*t fo shizzie
make makin millions look easy
every where ya turn you see me
you hear me
believe me
for ya see my pistol in 3-D
no time to call a peace treaty
dial 9-1-1 cause u need de-
police to help you believe me
[Proof]
i snatch the tounge from the sidewalk and piss on the curb
this is absurb
these street niggas twistin my words
we finally could
say goodbye to hollywood
cause proof an shaun
share nuttin in common
the nastyest band
with gats in each hand
we never bomb down to be a flash and a pan
no remorese
f*ck you stature dog
nuttin to do wit hands when i clap at yall
put ya jaw on the ground
wit the 4 and a pound
im goin out of town
for the long come around
so we can battle wit raps
so we can battle wit gats
matter fact we can battle wit plaques
[50 Cent]
this rap game
[Bizarre]
im too f*ckin retarded
i dont give a f*ck about my d*ck
thats why im dating loraina bobbet
my crew had an argument
who was the largest
now they all is dead
and im rolling as a solo artist
plus i made all the beats and wrote all the raps
well i really didnt
but i did according to this contract
i was stoned in the snow
wit no where to go
freezin 20 below
forced to join bail tip dafoe
my little girl she shouldnt be listening to these lyrics
thats why i glued the headphones to her ear to make sure she hear it
if rap dont work, im starting a group wit garth brooks (hahhaha)
50 sing the hook
[50 Cent]
this rap game
this rap game
I aint sellin my soul for this rap game
I aint digging a whole for this rap game
And im telling ya no it aint happ-ning
this rap game
this rap game
I aint sellin my soul for this rap game
I aint digging a whole for this rap game
this rap game
this rap game
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Jay-Z
Song: 8 Miles and Runnin
Yeah Renegades is back and the beat is sick,
Jay Z, Freeway, 8 Miles,
let's go...
Verse 1
8 miles and running, got my 7 album droppin,
And my 8 album coming,
Feedin a thousand growling stomachs,
But I could rewind the counter ta back, back,
When it was now or nothing,
People said I would amount to nothing,
That I had time for nothing,
Said I wasn't from the valers
or the sellers by your gunman,
I can see the folks now he got what he had coming,
Now that my 8th album's coming,
Everybody smiling wanting something,
claiming that they done something for em,
got Jay Z and pom poms in they whole uniforms,
claiming they be running and telling everybody like Martin Lawrence,
about how hot my rap performace 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 everyone was suein us,
I didn't see you in all black when everybody was suitin up,
back on the block, kickin it in and it was no you with us,
CHORUS
8 miles and running, got my 7 album droppin,
and my 8 album coming,
feedin a thousand growling stomachs, freaks...
6 miles and running got my fist straight poppin,
and my first album coming feedin 20 promises I made
(Repeat)
Verse 2
6 miles and running in the pontiak,
6 thousand 86 trans mic shift,
while the engine run,
anyone turn around
and give me one more chance,
let em smoke and scream em one more grams,
so i'm a bring them, homie, son and my pop,
stick close to my momma, keep toasters for drama,
mix alot with my son, my son growin and he learnin alot,
thats what i'm toastin, thats what i'm burin, so pop,
right on your own, rell 'em nigga, tell 'em nigga,
its like a biblical scripture,
look back turn to salt like the sinners
and most yall heartless and self-centered
like me shaggin, me shack,
set up your brother cause you tell us nigga,
heat back, uh, like, you never love for never
and cops watch every step, 6 miles and running
dodge in every trap, the rap ginger bread man,
cherish every precious breath, stat pick a second gat
uh..
CHORUS
Verse 3
Back when nobody would find me a talent,
Nobody would sign me, nobody believed in me,
Nobody but mommy blindly, but how could she deny me,
Me being the youngest friend to come up out of her,
tell me, she got every love for me,
when niggas would worn me the industry shun me,
that's why I'm taking all the industries money,
revenge is sweet honey, we run this,
young is the illest, free is the future,
beans and bleekers right now,
we can see our 8 miles nigga...
CHORUS
**************************************************************
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Macy Gray
Song: Time Of Your Life
Verse 1
When there come and left for dead
I've been out of my head
and now i wanna be bigger
bein' here with you
it's not so hard to be
I can see my dreams
I know im gunna be better
my friends always say
Chorus
my friends always say
that everything will be okay
but it don't always, work out that way
so her i am again
beleivin in, cause i remember when
baby
I had the time of my life
everything is right with you
after all that i've been through
I aint tried to lose
this time of my life, with you
baby
Verse 2
People say I'm out of line
So much on my mind
Like i wanna be bigger
sometimes it dont rhyme
but when you're here with me
I have poetry
I know im gunna be better
and my friends always say
[Chorus]
One day they will see
the giant baby
finally see me smile
hear me laughing, out loud
my voice will be heard
its no longer absurd
and i hope you hear
cause baby, baby
i haaaaddd...
I had the time of my life
everything is right with you
after all that i've been through
I aint tried to lose
gotta make my move and groove
everything i can
I had the time of my life
time of my life, with you
baby, take my hand
because im going to go on to
this time of my life, with you
baby
i had the time of my life
time of my life, with you
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Nas
Song: Wannabe 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 fuckin 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 fuckin 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 fuck 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
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: 50 Cent
Song: Wankster
WHOOO! Yea, It's 50, A.K.A. Ferrari, F-50, Break it down.
I got a lot of livin, to do before I die,
And I ain't got time to waste. Let's make it.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin.
You ain't a friend of mine,(yea) you ain't no kin to mine,(c'mon)
What makes you think that I won't run up on you wit the 9, (uh huh)
We do this all the time (what), right now we on the grind (yea)
So hurry up and cop and go resell it nicks and dimes, (uh huh)
Shortie, she so fine, I gotta make her mine,
A ass like that, gotta be one of a kind,(Whoo)
I crush em everytime, punch em wit every line,
I'm fuckin wit they mind, I make em press rewind,
They know they can't shine, If I'm around to rhyme,
Been on parole since 94, cause I commit the crime,
I say them my line, I did it 3 to 9,
The D's ran up in my crib, you know who drop the dime.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, but you ain't got nothin.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin long time, but you ain't got nothin.
Damn homie,
In highschool you was the man homie,
What the fuck happened to you, I got the sickest vendetta, when it come to the chedda,(uh huh)
Nigga, you play with my paper, you gon meet my baretta,
Now shortie think I'm a sweat her,(uh huh) I'm sippin on Amaretto, (yea)
I'm out here doin stilleta, I know I could do betta,
She look good, but I know she after my chedda,
She tryin to get in my pockets, homie, and I ain't gon let her,
Be easy, start some bullshit, you get your whole crew wet,
We in the club doin the same ol two step,
Gorilla unit cuz, they say we bugged out,
Cause we don't go nowhere without toast be thugged out.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin,
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin.
Me, I'm no mobsta, me, I'm no gangsta,
Me, I'm no hitman, (yea) me, I'm just me,
Me, I'm not wanksta, me, I'm no actor,
But it's me you see, on your tv, cause I hustle babe,
This rap shit is so easy, I'm gettin what you get for a brick, to talk greasy,
By any means(whoo), patna, I got to eat on these streets,
When you play me close, fa' sho, I'ma pop my heat,
Niggas say they gon murda 50, how
We ridin round wit guns the size, of Lil' Bow Wow,
What you know about AK's and AR-15's,
Equipped wit night vision, shell catchers and empties, huh.
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You got to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin,
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin,
You say you a wanksta, then you need to stop frontin,
You go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin,
You been hustlin a long time, and you ain't got nothin.
HA! Damn Homie!
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: BoomKat
Song: 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
You give me just enough to hang on enough
When you're just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time
Do you hear me when I say
So let me ask you something
Do you think I'm pretty or don't you
Do you wanna get with me or not and nowwww
Or are you just wasting my time
You're simply wasting my time
So quit wasting my time
And what would you've got to say
Well things have got to change
Say this just isn't right
I don't wanna have to fight
And I think I'd better go
Cause this ain't working out any more
and I'm sorry, sorry, sorry
Understand
That what you did
Was just not so cool
Baby, you're just not that cool
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Rakim
Song: "R. A. K. I. M."
Rak, Rak, Rak, Rak, Rak, Rak, Rak,
Intro X2
R
Rugged and rough thats how i do it
A
Allah, who i praise to the fullest
K
Keep it movin'
I
Stand alone
M
Its my crown, my world, my throne
Verse 1
Hey when Rak come along
its a rap ya'll relax
the alminac
just show me where the parties at
seminars and tracks
closed comas and cardiacs
broads and cats screamin "oh my god, hes back"
just amagine, i hit the lab and get it crackin
A thousand styles and one verse wearing the swiss patterns
chicks get stabbed in the back til they have spasms
known to spit a magnum or split a atom
who would of known that jesus would come back to the ghetto
on that level
like a black pharoah with packed metal
so black rebels, a black pedal
the pharoah with 5 bevels and take a word of rap
gettin bazaarre, oh hardcore
this is for yall, the crib or the par
playin when you get in the car
chill at the bar, spit somethen or split a cigar
get with yah dogs to bring along to the bar
Intro X2
Verse 2
I used to paint this flo' on nathan scrolls
then learned to make this doe with gangstas roll
think like the late great capone, but the bank is closed
these cats that think they ball but they aint this cold
im from new york city, even where pretty chicks act dark
niggas get clapped up, you stack up, they stick that up
put the strap up, you thought my name was kid, back up
big niggas, *spit* pick that up or lick that up
raised by gangsters and gamblers, hustlers, conartists, convicts, killers and dons
drug dealers, players and pimps, smooth talkers, stick up kids, thugs, real niggas and dogs
wanted by every soul and lay dead in the turf
cursed by every spirt and never made it to birth
since the moon seperated from earth
thats why they say thats why im the greatest that ever orcahstrated a verse
Intro X2
Verse 3
Hey yo
toast to that, its the cat that broke backs to a sold clap or smoke a track, how dope is that
pope will rap, wrote back the most slack
they know back before they turned coke to crack
to my dawgs hearin sirens on the firearms
i'll come, dyin wars and behind iron bars
the boulevard retire broads when i aint bob
try and rob my dialog, i am god
chicks moan to get next to my throne, sniff my cologne and get rak alone
sex pots at home, the tests gots to go
caress spots, dressed up, fed rocks to bone
hit the floors, its for 2003
hits galore, who rock a style as wild as me
rest assured when i rock dance crowds, they scream
bitch malore, i rock mine out rahim
Intro X4
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Young Zee
Song: Thats my nigga fo real
Ugh, zee
I got wakin haze, my customers hoes sleep with me
we have small beef, i still sell em o's for three fifty
they known when big beef, i'll pop 100 times
they like road kill, i live niggas brains on 189
and my down bitches, they be ready to kill
i be like chill, they be like "thats my nigga fo real"
Thats my nigga fo real X3
I don't give a fuck if we dont sell a record
we still gunna get this money in the bricks
spill it zee
I'm like santa clause, i deliver niggas grams raw
straight from panama, they eat it up like hannibal
and my dons, they appear like magic wands
i sell em to the crack of dawn, and destroy every track im on
plus i have a clan packed in the back of vans
more raw than the taliban, murk you for a half a gram
i get bboy a truck, yo truck in the river
fuck some doe, he be like "thats my nigga fo real"
Thats my nigga fo real X3
Scarecrow what, im trying to walk before i crawl
I want it all, ever since i came outta my mommas walls
im trying to make so much doe when i write a song
i can vite em all, while ya'll click on the corner selling final calls
niggas mad at us, gladiators like maximus
we fabolous, while you fall off like canabis's managers
my man d, you keep the nina pillin
zee, point a mine and watch em soak em like sarina williams
Thats my nigga fo real X3
Zee need buddha, E user
Be freelookers spittin from our pt cruisers
my tank dont drop, i still got doe to make
got little niggas on rollerskates, holdin my coke and weight
blow paper, hole chaser, doe raiser, joe frasier
16 cellys and 4 pagers
go hype up your squad that they might fuck with ours
i just light up cigars, go buy bikes, trucks and cars
got axe n nitty in atlanta deep
ran the street, 10 grand a week
i got one word, dont put ya man to sleep
and i love my jersey live bitches
they leave a nigga, face with 35 stitches
they'll help me, cinder blocks and pushin kids so deep in the oceans
they see where octopusses live
this label deal is for raws pacin chill
i know mad heads, but still
Thats my nigga fo real X3
Yeah what
(echo)Bricks
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Gangstarr
Song: 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"
Album: 8 Mile Soundtrack (2002)
Artist: Eminem
Song: Rabbit Run
[Verse 1]
Some days I just wanna up and call it quits
I feel like im surrounded by a wall of bricks
Everytime I go to get up, I just fall in pits
My life's likes one great big ball of sh*t
If I could just, put it all in the all I spit
Instead of always trying to swallow it
Instead of staring at this wall and sh*t
While I sit, writers block, sick of all this sh*t
Cant call it sh*t, all I know is im about to hit the wall
If I have to see another one of mom’s alcoholic fits
This is it, last straw, that’s all, that’s it
I aint dealing with another f*ckin politic
Im like a skillet bubbling until it filters up
im about to kill it, I can feel it building up
blow this building up, I’ve concealed enough
my cup runneth over, I dun 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 imma show you what, you gonna feel my rush
you don’t feel it, then it must be too real to touch
p, im about to tear sh*t up
goosebumps, yeah, imma make your hairs sit up
yeah sit up, imma tell you who I be
imma make you hate me, cos you aint me
you wait, it aint too late to finally see
what you closed-minded f*cks, what you blind to see
whoever finds me is gonna get a finders fee
out this world, aint no one out there mind as me
u need peace 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 Im really feeling at that time, yea
sometimes, sometimes, sometimes
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,
[Verse 2]
im desperate at my desk
If I could just get the rest of this sh*t off my chest again
Stuck in a slum, can't think of nothing
F*ck im stuck, but wait, here comes something
Nope, not good enough, scribble it out, new pad,
drink a lid up and throw the sh*t out
im fizzling out, thought I figured it out
ball’s in my court, but im scared to dribble it out
im afraid, but why am I afraid, why am I a slave to this trade?
Sign that I spit to the grave, real enough to rowl you up
Want me to flip it, I can rip it any style you want
Ima switch, hit a b*tch, jimmy smith aint a quitter
ima sit it here till i get enough of me to finally hit
a f*cking boiling point, put some oil on your joints,
flip the coin b*tch, come get destroyed,
an emcees worst dream, i make em jinx,
they hate me, see me and shake like a changling fence,
by the looks of em you would swear that jaws was comin,
by the screams of him, you would swear im sawwin someone,
by the way they running, you would swear the law was comin,
Its now or never, and tonight its all or nothing,
mama jimmy keeps leaving on us, he said hed be back,
he pinky promised, i dont think hes honest,
ill be back baby, i just gotta beat this clock
f*ck this clock, ima make them eat this watch,
dont believe me watch, ima win this race,
and ima come back and rub my sh*t in your face b*tch,
i found my nitch, you gunna hear my voice,
till ur sick of it, you aint gunna have a choice,
if I gotta scream till I have half a lung,
If I have half a chance ill grab it, Rabbit Run...