lirik lagu anno domini beats - hard
[intro]
[verse 1: yelawolf]
roll down the window in the chevy and i listen to the critics but they really wasn’t saying sh-t
buddy, i’m a gutter motherf-cker from an alabama creek, you don’t know
who you’re playin’ with, they talk so much that i bet one of these pebbles under me get
laryngitis the wave is so contagious, so who gave it? apparently i did
put fish in the back of my boat, i’m a fisherman, i’m a reel ’em in, mackerel
i’m a give ’em ten minutes,then put ’em back in the water there, just to see ’em all float
and kinda like mixtapes in the back on my trunk, buddy, yeah, i got ’em all sold
in alabama with an arm and hammer, swimmin’ in propaganda, i got ’em all, whoa
promenade, country boy, get out of my way, gallon of sweet tea, a packet of lemonade
smackin’ a f-ggot, i crack a bat on the pen and page, no h0m-, anyway any stage, rip it any
way the independent way, look, have you seen his js?
footwork, send em’ in a rage, feelin’ like a millionaire on minimum wage don’t need a mercedes
to take your girl, my chevy is sick, earl
i let her play with my mullet, while she sip syrup
hold up, alabama funk make you lose your t–th like a mountain dew soda
some saltines wanna live in the box, but guess what? i’m the cracker who showed up
[hook: eminem] x2
cause sometimes i feel like its so hard
for me to come up with sh-t to say. aay!
i’m at a loss for words cause ya’ll already said it all
i think i’m runnin’ out of cliches
i’m gettin’ writer’s block. psyche!
[verse 2: wiz khalifa]
left the crib with 10 grand bought a hundred pair
i’m the coach i can show you how to be a player
5 faces said the fitted b-tches love my hair
camo shorts go with anything i wanna wear
they let me in the club f-ck the dress code
me and all my n-ggas rollin’ up the best smoke
og kush from the west coast
oh you down to f-ck? well shorty lets go
diamonds in my chain n-ggas tryna steal my lane
chronic in my brain b-tch i’m reppin’ taylor gang
smoke till i’m insane drinkin’ till i’m throwin’ up
only papers if you taylor’d n-gga throw it up
high socks low cuts smell that good weed then you know its us
that yellow car pullin up them n-ggas ain’t hot so they ain’t close to us
down to fly get two fingers and throw em’ up
[chrous: eminem] x2
cause sometimes i feel like its so hard
for me to come up with sh-t to say. aay!
i’m at a loss for words cause ya’ll already said it all
i think i’m runnin’ out of cliches
i’m gettin’ writer’s block. psyche!
i’m gettin’ writer’s block. psyche!
i’m gettin’ writer’s block. psyche!
i’m gettin’ writer’s block. psyche!
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