Foreign Song Lyrics

Eminem – Not Alike Lyrics ft Royce da 5’9”

Eminem – Not Alike Lyrics ft Royce da 5’9”

Eminem – Not Alike Lyrics ft Royce da 5’9”

Not Alike Lyrics by Eminem feat Royce da 5’9”.

[Intro: Eminem]
Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up
Yeah

[Chorus: Eminem]
Brain dead, eye drops
Pain meds, cyclops
They bed, iPod
Maybach, my bach
Trainwrecks, sidewalks
Pay less, high-tops
K-Fed, iHop
Playtex, ice spots
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (whoa!)
Up on this mic, we were on it
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (woo!)
That’s how much we have in common
We are not alike, there’s not alike us on the mic (yeah!)

[Verse 1: Royce da 5’9″]
I don’t do Jordans and Audemars
I do explosions and Molotovs
Y’all blowing smoke as if y’all ain’t washed
I blow the smoke from the car exhaust
Flying to a party I am not invited to, feeling like the streets need me (woah)
I ain’t gotta dance as long as my Ferrari Spyder move, like C Breezy
I don’t gotta hire goons, I’d rather try to buy the moon, and breathe freely
The sky is blue, the tie is new, the Masarati white and cool like G-Eazy
While these dudes tryna figure out how to do a freestyle as fly as me
I’m confused trying to figure out how to do Capri styles, am I a G?
Everybody doing chick joints, probably rob these little dudes at fist point
Remember everybody used to bite Nickel, now everybody doing Bitcoin
We don’t got nothing in common (no)
We don’t got nothing in common (no)
Y’all in the stuff like doubled-up Styrofoam cups on them uppers-and-downers (woo!)
I’m into stuff like doubling commas
Find me a brother who’s solid
To count the shit up, then bust the shit down
When the cops set us up, we can flush the shit down
We can no give a fuck, shit, a fucking Kehlani
Selling your cock and your butt for a follower
Possible cup, for dollars you powder sniff
Now you’re slipping, call it a power trip
A product of politics
Y’all went from profit and topping the charts
To dropped in the park in a pile of shit
Knowledge is power, but powerless if you got it and you do not acknowledge it
Y’all music sound like Dr. Seuss inspired it
Hiring strippers, prostitutes retiring
We can spit it for ya it vans
I’m fit to be king, you’re cut out to fit in prince pants
You niggas—

[Chorus: Eminem]
Brain dead, eye drops
Pain meds, cyclops
They bed, iPod
Maybach, my bach
Trainwrecks, sidewalks
Payless, high-tops
K-Fed, iHop
Playtex, ice spots
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (whoa!)
Up on this mic, we we’re on it
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (woo!)
That’s how much we have in common
We are not alike, there’s not alike us on the mic (yeah!)

[Verse 2: Eminem]
You say you’re affiliated with murderers, killers (ayy)
The people you run with are fucking (gang)
But you’re just a wanna be gunner (gang)
Like you was gonna do something
Acting like you catching bodies (ayy)
And you got juice, lil youngin’, you’re bugging
You ain’t never even been charged in connection with battery, bitch, you ain’t plugged in nothing
Rap god spit lyrical bullets (boom)
Your gas caught you partners with a tullip
This has not to do with muscular
But have guns for sure, you better put up
Strap on, in other words if you’re a gunner
Roll up with your (gang)
You’re gon’ need a arsenal
‘Cause this bar is over your head
So you better have arms if you’re gonna pull up (skrt)
Oh, you run the streets, huh?
Now you wanna come and fuck with me, huh?
This little cock-sucker, he must be feeling himself
He wants to keep up
It’s tough to me now, so he does a feature
Decides to team up with Nina
But next time you don’t gotta use Tech N9ne if you wanna come at me with a sub-machine gun
And I’m talking to you but you already know who the fuck you are, Kelly
I don’t use sublims and sure as fuck don’t sneak-diss
But keep commenting on my daughter Hailie
I keep on telling motherfucker, bitches, in case you forgot
Really I need jaw memories, jaw like strawberry or pineapple, apricot jelly
I respond, really, but this time Shady ’bout to sound off like a fucking cocked semi Glock
Demi god, let me put a silencer on this little non-threatening blond fairy, cornball taking shots at me
You’re not ready, fool, break yourself like Rocksteady Crew
Obviously, I’m not getting through
We can get it poppin’ like Redenbach, letting off like Remy Ma
Heavy artillery, gotta deal a harsh with a hard shell
Put a motherfucking heart in bigger than Bizarre’s belly
Only time you’ll ever say, I lost
You’ll be talking ’bout Fetty Wap, better call Diddy
Just to try to get me off and you better hope I don’t call Trick Trick
Bitch, this shit don’t fly in our city
Punk, you don’t disrespect OG’s, R.I.P. Prodigy
Soldier in my soul and I told them the moment he signed me that I’ll be the most hated, dumb-hated solider
There’s no shame, it’s okay to own it ’cause life is a bitch, it’s a bow-legged hoe
But now days are over, I Harvey Weinstein, a bathrobe hanging over
My code name is groper, I roleplay with lotion
I fucked the whole world then I throw away the Trojan
Olay the hoes like with home-made explosives, I blow eighty holes in you
Don’t make me go in, I OJ the flows and I’m insult to injury
Roll dice to globe in and I’m [??] tryna throw in [??]
They both hate to choke and my hoe play the [??]
And I double-edge sworded ’cause one place I poke and I stick and I turn and I rotating motion
Invisible with the pen, I’m at the pinnacle of sick individuals, take my dick and put the tip in
At minimal, I’m fucking these syllables
I let them lick on my genitals
I’m a fucking invisible, indefensible, despicable difficult prick, a little bit unpredictable
I spit the formiddable, that you’re bitches are fucking with the original
I can say that me and Nickel are identical
But not us, the only thing we have in common is I’m a dick and you suck
Otherwise one has nothin’ to do with the other
None comes close to
Skunk, bug, solider
Tongue, shrub, shoulder
One mother older
Sponge, mob, colder
None, rug , hoaster
Lug, nut, coaster
Lung, jug roaster
Young Thug poster
Unplugged toaster

[Chorus: Eminem]
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (whoa!)
Up on this mic, we were on it (yeah)
That’s how much we have in common (yeah!)
That’s how much we have in common (woo!)
That’s how much we have in common
We are not alike, there’s not alike us on the mic
(Man, fuck this shit; let’s go)

SONG INFO

Produced By: Eminem, Ronny J & Tay Keith

Released: August 31, 2018

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