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...
Compositores: Luis Edgardo Resto (ASCAP), Marshall B Mathers Iii (BMI)Editores: Eight Mile Style Music (BMI), EMI Music Publishing Ltd (PRS), Kobalt Music Pub Ltd (ABRAMUS), Luis Resto Music, Martin Affiliated LlcPublicado em 2002ECAD verificado obra #1881826 e fonograma #1934396 em 13/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM