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Fuel (Shady Edition)
Eminem, WESTSIDE BOOGIE & Grip
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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Translation
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Smokin' trees, I'm ridin' 'round, come to my side of town
Lately, it's been goin', goin', goin', goin', goin' down
Come see how heavy it get, I done seen way too much stress as a jit
Death in this section was present, we preppin' for war, so we feel like we better equipped
Brodie got demons he keep to his self, probably won't ever know, 'cause he never gon' snitch
Hella resentment from lettin' it sit, I say, "I got him," I'm never gon' miss
I done put way too much prep into this, back on your bumper how I'm wreckin' this b-
I keep on talkin' 'bout healin' that's never gon' happen, you know that I'm steppin' on sh-
I say the feelin' I get from me killin' a rapper just show me that Heaven exist
Shootin' 'til ain't nothin' left in the clip, shootin' 'til I get respect in this b-
I might just go get a Tec in this b-, I might just go at the ref in this b-
Guessing you think this sh- new to me, huh? Guess you ain't know what's fuelin' me, huh?
I just had enemies shoot at me, tell me, just what could this industry do to me, huh?
Helpin' the hood and the homies and plus the community think that it's two of me, huh?
Know where I go when it's over, I run out of gas, they gon' say that they through with me, huh? Aw, sh-
When all this sh- gon' get better? B- just f- whoever
N- just sayin' whatever, n- gon' fold under pressure, honestly, I ain't no better
I had to hop out the hole and got cold as a shoulder, I turned my emotion into sweater
I had to garner the power to work on my soul, I ain't tryna be broken forever
I see the smoke, and start runnin' into it, shawty, you losin' is so therapeutic
I kinda think that you want it to happen, got put in a corner, you forced me to do it
You gotta tell me that bein' a rapper is hangin' with rappers, and I ain't into it
I'm with the sh-, and I'm ready to prove it, waitin' on Marshall to say I can do it
This sh- goin' down, down, down, down, dow-dow-dow-dow-
If I run out of fuel, I won't
What the f- y'all gon' do if I don't
Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, dow-dow-dow-dow-)
That scares the f- out of you (look)
I was slept on and left for dead
Sweat, wept, and bled for a game that barely kept me fed
Ain't want the fame, just a spec of cred
Nowadays, I take a check instead
The pen been steps ahead
If you mention him, them boys wet the bed
Get on a track with GRIP and get knocked out like yo' daddy did
Whatever Deebo said to Craig, we can go head-to-head
N- play hard on the app
At they mama crib hatin' on bars in a rap
From n- that still starve in the trap
Clap back, and it's, "GRIP, you're takin' it too far, just relax"
These words I discard on the wax
Sh- deeper than the cars and the racks
The fashion and gas, so when a star interacts
Got the soul of a field n- with scars on his back
So pardon me if part of me feel a itch to click
Pitch a fit, blitz a b-, split ya sh-
GRIP in the kitchen with instant grits
Flick the wrist, they wish he'd miss, he's six for six
Go back through the discog'
It's obvious I'm the godliest, yeah, I'm sonnin' y'all
I took the summer off
Just to let them get they mumbles off about blocks that they ain't spun at all
The uninvolved underdog
Summoned from a drunken slumber to pummel y'all, but they don't wanna brawl
This shit ain't even fun no more
I mean, don't nobody wanna come outside
They like, "You should do a song with so-and-so
Or maybe such and such," this sh- done, I tried
They must not got it in their arsenal or metacarpal
To pick the pen up and out-ink the man
Hm, but then again I'm partial
It really took Marshall just for me to get a feature? Damn
I know rap's what I started with
But when your target market's lethargic to the bars you spit
It's harder to put your heart in it
But come too far to quit, now I'm on to guitars and shit
So don't find it jarrin' if I switch the whole style up
Want the old GRIP? Go get the old album
Any genre, same outcome
I'm on that b- with a stick like Malcolm
Buck, buck, buck, buck
Buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck-buck
If I run out of fuel, I won't
What the f- y'all gon' do if I don't
Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, dow-dow-dow-dow-)
That scares the fuck out of you
I was up to my waist in debt, better yet, face and neck, tryna chase a check
Sweat, labor for minimal as wages get, just tryna get me a dub like a blank cassette (yeah)
I worked for peanuts 'til the day I met Dre and that gave me a little raise in net, now
Nothing is close to disgusting as what I gross, so this must mean that what I wrote
Makes me the illest rapper there is, was, or ever will be
That's the real reason I still squeeze, and I fill these bars with so much vitriol, these
Voices in my head convince me, I bet that Ted Kaczynski'll feel me
'Cause I serial-kill beats like Israel Keyes, my peripheral sees
Everything through his POVs, the rap G-O-D
From Little Caesars to fill arenas, I made it big, word to Lil Cease
"Fuel" remix, so who'll be picked next, whose name's gonna be next up?
Notorious B.I.G.'s death was the domino effects of
2Pac's murder, like facial tissue, whose clock should I clean next? Puff's?
'Til he's in police handcuffs, guilty, will he step up?
Like G. Dep and turn himself in, who knows all the murders they'll pin on me next
So prepare for me to not choose none of my words carefully
I've been comparable to Ivan The Terrible, I'll take a paraplegic
And I'll slam his wheelchair on the cement at physical therapy treatment
Then laugh hysterically, these wimps are like Slim's hair when he bleached it
Y'all need to lighten up, I give a f-, I don't care in the least bit
Kiss every square inch of my white rear end, I guarantee
That my elevator's stuck somewhere between two levels emcees won't ever see
I spit bars so barbarically, a fuckin' parakeet wouldn't dare repeat
I'll never be runnin' out of steam or kerosene
If I run out of fuel, I won't
What the f- y'all gon' do if I don't
Run out of fuel? (Down, down, down, down, dow-dow-dow-dow-)
That scares the fuck out of you
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