Eminem - Fuel (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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Eminem - Fuel (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
Smokin' trees, I’m ridin' 'round
Come to my side of town
Lately, it’s been goin', goin',
goin', goin', goin'
down (Look, uh, look)
All of my niggas gon' ride with it
In the pocket, the rocket
like Kellen Mond
Mama told me the power
was in the tongue
But it probably ain't
powerful as a gun
All of you little cowards get devoured,
I’m givin’ out flowers to anyone
I ain't been out the house in
a minute ’cause I ain't wit'
it if the money is miniature
I been mindin' my business,
I’m business-minded
I been spendin' some time
with the minister
'Cause them niggas spinnin' shit
and still sinnin' in the City
of God and it's sinister
Try to pray and rеpent in a synagogue
or a mosque, a tеmple, a church
Them brown skin's sentiment
niggas hurtin'
And murder's a common courtesy,
for certainly
R.I.P. be on the shirt, search,
lurk, murk, squirt, dirt,
first (Forty-eight)
My nigga doin' four plus eight
without a court date
Talked the other day,
he say he doin' okay
He good, he gainin' weight,
then got a sharp shank
He made, he say they play,
they gotta partake
Homie got a heart full of hate
and a face full of war paint
Eyes all red, full of rage and it's
hard to escape from a dark place
East side niggas from the
A, niggas all ages
Tryna sell a pound of the dog cage
All the OGs 'round town was our age
Danger, sex, and drugs, X and R-rated
Danger, sex, and drugs,
shit be outrageous
But don't get this shit
fucked up, my boy
Ya lucked up once, then ya doubled up
I dribble and pass it to the
cup and triple-double it
Get to the basket, get the
cash and cuddle up
Cover up, bundle up, batter
up (Batter up)
Um, talk a lot of smack
and I could back it up
Shawty wanna shag, wanna shack it up
I can put her pussy on the
platter like a platypus
Nappy-head nigga, hair natted up
I said, "Barbara," a nigga tatted up
I won't argue, nigga mad as fuck
'Cause they ain't compatible,
I'm finna catapult
But niggas know it's goin'
(Down, down, down, down, do-do-do-do)
If I run out of fuel, I won't
What the fuck y'all gon' do if I don't
Run out of fuel? (Down, down,
down, down, do-do-do-do)
That scares the fuck out of you
For a couple decades (Brrt)
Been lettin' this TEC spray (Brrt)
From that day that I met Dre (Brrt)
So you liable to catch strays (Brrt)
From the second you press play (What?)
I suggest they (What?)
Do not test like an essay (Why?)
'Cause like where my homies
out west stay (Yeah)
We can just say (What?)
I'm like an R-A-P-E-R (Yeah)
Got so many eses (Eses), S-As (Huh)
Wait, he didn't just spell
the word "rapper" and leave
out a P, did he? (Yep)
R.I.P., rest in peace, Biggie
And Pac, both of y'all should
be living (Yep)
But I ain't tryna beef with him (Nope)
'Cause he might put a hit on
me like, "Keefe D, get 'em"
And that's the only way you're
gonna be killing me (Nah)
Ain't gonna be on no
beat, silly (Yeah)
I beat the beat silly, on the
grind like teeth gritting
Call me "obesity" (Why?)
You think it's over? Wait,
it's just beginning
Diss me and it ain't gonna
be pretty (Nah)
Used to be yea tall, then I grew a
little each day 'til I became God
Like James Todd, now your arms
are too short to BK brawl
Indeed, they small like DJ Paul (Woo)
My new Benz better than
your truck by far
Bitch, suck my balls
You either smoke crack or you're
playin' stickball in the street
'Cause you must be on base if you thinkin'
you could touch my car (Yeah)
But if the whole world was
out to get you (What?)
It'd turn you to a powder keg too
Kyle Rittenhouse, spittin' rounds, the
TEC shoots like (Look out, brrt)
And that ain't no sound effect (Woo)
Neither was that, SIG Sauer lets loose
I don't condone gun violence
at schools (Nah)
But I can't get these voices
out my head (Hey, Marshall,
kill, kill, kill)
They're putting words in my
mouth like alphabet soup
Got the most content on the continent
And constant compliments give
me confidence (I'm a)
To cross of common sense
and incompetence (Uh)
I'm cognizant that conflict's
a consequence (What?)
Of accomplishments and
comp is no competish
I've conquered and conked
'em into unconsciousness
No conscience, I conjure
this King Kong or just
Call me "Kamikaze," I'm concoctin'
this (Woo, my bad)
But nobody's sixteens
are touchin' these
My fuckin' index fingers
fuckin' the nina
Clutchin' the nine millimeter,
tuckin' the heat
Got the toaster like an English muffin
No, I mean "toast to" like
you drink to somethin'
But it's in a holster,
I proceed to bustin'
Fuck around and get popped
like Halyna Hutchins
Like I'm Alec Baldwin, what
I mean is buckin' you down
Coup de grâce then, right
between the fuckin' eyes
Shoot 'em all in, if you think
you're fuckin' with me
You're gonna suffer the
fuckin' repercussions
The reaper's comin', a heathen,
I'm Ethan Crumbley
I keep replenishing fuel while
the beat I'm punishing
Please support me on PATREON Thank you!