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look alive (nitin randhawa remix) - nitin randhawa lyrics

[intro: drake, blocboy jb & lil juice]
tay keith, f*ck these n*ggas up!
yeah, yeah (ooh)
yeah (ooh)
6 god, blocboy, 6 god, blocboy (ooh) (word)
6 god, blocboy, 6 god, blocboy (ooh) (blocboy, 6 god)
(you are watching a master)
yeah (hey)

[chorus: drake & blocboy jb]
901 shelby drive, look alive, look alive (‘live)
n*ggas came up on this side, now they on the other side (word, word, word)
oh well, f*ck ’em, dawg, we gon’ see how hard they ride (huh, f*ck ’em)
i get racks to go outside and i split it with the guys (outside)
we up on the other side, n*ggas actin’ like we tied
i’ve been gone since, like, july, n*ggas actin’ like i died
they won’t be expectin’ sh*t when capo go to slide (hah)
’cause i told them that we put that sh*t behind us but i lied (hah)

[verse 1: drake]
ayy, ayy, look who i’m around, man
if i f*cked up, i’ma be downtown, man
fourth floor bound, man, that’s if i get caught, man
pushed me to the edge, so it really ain’t my mothaf*ckin’ fault
man, i’m not to blame, man, this f*ckin’ industry is cutthroat
i’m not the same, man, and i could let you check the tag now
i’m rockin’ name brand, i’m only chasin’ after bags now
i got a game plan and i’m out here with the woo!
[chorus: drake & blocboy jb]
700, three high fives, look alive, look alive (‘live)
n*ggas came up on this side, now they on the other side (word, word, word)
oh well, f*ck ’em, dawg, we gon’ see how hard they ride (huh, f*ck ’em)
i get racks to go outside and i split it with the guys (outside)
we up on the other side, n*ggas actin’ like we tied
i’ve been gone since, like, july, n*ggas actin’ like i died
(awwww sh*t, joyner)
they won’t be expectin’ sh*t when capo go to slide (hah)
’cause i told them that we put that sh*t behind us but i— (hah)
(you might look alive, that’s ’cause you don’t really know you a dead man)

[verse 2: joyner lucas]
this is god’s plan, someone stop me
i’ve been sent here from illuminati
evil scriptures written on my body
me and satan pull up in a red ferrari
don’t be tryin’ to put your f*ckin’ arm around me
44 shots traumatizin’ from the .45, hit 44 more
carbon copies say you kamikazes
that’s for e’rybody
mama, poppy
sister, brother, cousin, uncle, auntie
this is not versace, this is hot hibachi
this is hiroshima, this is nagasaki
i’m mahatma gandhi, a f*ckin’ humanoid anunnaki
with plenty hammers when i’m ridin’ shotty
better use your manners when you talk about me
ain’t too hard to find me
i’ve been k!llin’ n*ggas, still ain’t nothin’ left though
joyner lucas sicker than a strep throat
spanish b*tch that wanna give me besos
they must’ve forgot i was next up
speed out your crib right after i clean out your sh*t and then put all of your f*ckin’ money in a escrow
f*ck what you sayin’, i’m not the one that you play with
i think they really mistaken, i wasn’t next up?
you thought wrong and you all gone, all done
i just might bring back don juan, i just might bring back sean john
tell p diddy that i’m on one
i’ma beat it down with a du*rag
p*ssy ate out, that’s a popcon
if i don’t f*ck with you, that’s too bad (god d*mn)
ho, you played out like the thong song
ain’t no bygones bein’ bygones
i should murder n*ggas when i buy guns
ho, you get stretched like nylon
this is my band, i’m dylon
all i wanna do is just drop bombs
on you cheerleadin’ n*ggas with the pom*poms
my jamaican b*tch got socks on
every time i hit it she be like, “wagwan”
peter piper picked a pepper, and i picked the pressure
pick a fight, i pick a side, i put you on a stretcher
peter piper picked up a nine, i put it together
started poppin’ at the people, they ’bout to meet the beretta
better meet the metal, i’ma need a fujita to measure
put you deeper than what’s deeper the sea or the desert
i’ve been schemin’ while i’m creepin’, like fifty feet to the jetta
n*ggas speed and hit the pedal, i put my feet in the metal
god d*mn!
[hook: joyner lucas]
508 all on my side, they gon’ ride, they gon’ ride
n*gga, this a homicide, oh my god, oh my god
i said i was gon’ retire, b*tch i lied, b*tch i lied
i ain’t got no f*ckin’ job, this my life, this my, wait—

[verse 3: j. cole]
baptized at first baptist church
the pastor name was reverend johnson (okay)
chastised his shirt and matchin’ shoes
but had to front, it never bothered him (okay)
hurt his pride but he swallowed it (okay)
dirt is all that he spotted
and in the dirty south where bodies pilin’ up
so high, they block the birds and rerouted ’em (d*mn)
plenty murderers had observers but
you never heard a peep out of them
so many funerals it ain’t enough numerals to keep count of them (woah)
look, i’m just settin’ the scene
back when i stared at the phone as i’m lettin’ it ring
another collector, they leave us a message
my mama in deficit, must intervene
i bust out the seams, i’m gettin’ too big for these b*tches now
i invest in the dream, i’m destined for green
i got superstar d*ck for these b*tches now
i got superstar d*ck for these b*tches now
and i think about that when i dig ’em out
(when i dig ’em out, when i dig ’em out)
[pre*chorus: eminem]
brain dead, eye drops
pain meds, cyclops
daybed, ipod
“may*back,” maybach
trainwrecks, sidewalks
payless, high*tops
k*fed, ihop
playtex, icebox

[chorus: eminem]
that’s how much we have in common (yah!)
that’s how much we have in common (whoa!)
up on this mic when we’re on it (yah)
that’s how much we have in common (yuh!)
that’s how much we have in common (woo!)
that’s how much we have in common
we are not alike, there’s nada like us on the mic (yah!)

[verse 4: logic]
everybody wanna tell me what i am, what i am not
“you ain’t black, you a mothaf*ckin’ white boy
shut ya mouth, do it right boy, a’ight boy?
man, why you such a hype boy?”
“why you always talk about being black?
skin too white, n*gga f*ck that”
everything you talk about, cut that
that door you trying to open, you could shut that
grip the gat, yeah that’s how i’ma buck back
tell me what i am and what i know now
all this prejudice has got to go
life is moving fast, it need to slow down
come and see me when i am in yo’ town
practice what we preach before it go down
practice what we preach before it go
yes, i got the gift to gab fo sho
will i have to get the gat? no, no
yes, i got to gift to gab fo sho
but will have to get the gat, get the gat, get the, get the?
masta deep down inside of me
the plantation deep down inside of me
everybody f*ck like sodomy
’cause one or the other what it gotta be
tell me why my momma gotta lie to me
unity for everyone that lied to me
peace on earth what i try to be
i just wanna spread the message of equality
and yes, i got to gift to gab fo sho
will i have to get the gat? no, no
yes, i got to gift to gab fo sho
but will have to get the gat, get the gat, get the, get the gat?

[pre*chorus: eminem]
brain dead, eye drops
pain meds, cyclops
daybed, ipod
“may*back,” maybach
trainwrecks, sidewalks
payless, high*tops
k*fed, ihop
playtex, icebox

[verse 5: eminem]
you say you’re affiliated with murderers, k!llers (ayy!)
the people you run with are thuggin’ (gang!)
but you just a wannabe gunner (gang!)
like you was gonna do somethin’
actin’ like you catchin’ bodies (ayy!)
and you got juice, lil’ youngin’, you buggin’
you ain’t never even been charged in connection with battery
b*tch, you ain’t plugged into nothin’
rap god spit lyrical bullets (pew!)
and gats c*ck, your partners better tool up
this has not to do with muscular
but have guns for sure, you better put a
strap on, other words if you’re gonna
roll up with your (gang!) you’re gon’ need a *rs*nal
’cause this bar is over your head
so you better⁠—{gun c*ck}⁠—have arms if you’re gonna pull up (skrrt!)
oh, you run the streets, huh?
now you wanna come and f*ck with me, huh?
this little c*ck*sucker, he must be feelin’ himself
he wants to keep up his tough demeanour
so he does a feature, decides to team up with n9na
but next time you don’t gotta use tech n9ne
if you wanna come at me with a sub, machine gun
and i’m talkin’ to you
but you already know who the f*ck you are, kelly
i don’t use sublims and sure as f*ck don’t sneak*diss
but keep commenting on my daughter hailie
i keep on telling motherf*ckers
but just in case you forgot really and need ja memories jarred like strawberry or pineapple apricot jelly
i respond rarely, but this time shady ’bout to sound off
like a f*ckin’ c*cked semi*glock demi*god
let me put a f*ckin’ silencer on this little
non*threatening blond fairy cornball takin’ shots at me
you’re not ready, fool, break yourself like rock steady crew
obviously, i’m not getting through
we can get it poppin’ like redenbach, letting off like remy ma
heavy artille—ry, godzilla harsh with a hard sh*ll
with a motherf*cking heart bigger than bizarre’s belly
only time you’ll ever say i lost
you’ll be talkin’ ’bout fetty wap, better call diddy
just to try to get me off
and you better hope i don’t call trick trick
b*tch, this sh*t don’t fly in our city
punk, you don’t disrespect ogs, r.i.p. prodigy
sold dre my soul and then told him the moment he signed me
that i’ll be the most hated, though made it
so that there’s no shame, it’s okay to own it
’cause life is a b*tch, she’s a bow*legged ho
but now those days are over
i harvey weinstein a bathrobe hanging open
my code name is groper, i role play with lotion
i f*ck the whole world then i throw away the trojan
old lederhosen with home*made explosives
i blow 80 holes in you
don’t make me go in, i oj the flows
and i’m insult to injury, rolaids to goldman
i’m throat spray and motrin, i throated nicole
as they both there to choke and my whole blade is soakin’
i double*edge sword it ’cause one place i poke and
i stick and i turn in a rotating motion
(nitin randhawa)
invisible with the pen, i’m at the pinnacle of sick individuals
stick my d*ck and put the tip in at minimal
i’m f*ckin’ these syllables, i let ’em l!ck on my genitals
i’m a f*cking invincible, indefensible, despicable, difficult pr*ck
a little bit unpredictable, i spit the formidable
that you b*tches f*ckin’ with, the original
i consider me and nickel identical—but not us
the only thing we have in common’s i’m a d*ck and you suck
otherwise one has nothin’ to do with the other
none come close to skunk, bug, soldier
tongue, shrub, shoulder, one month older
sponge, mug, folder, nun, rug, holster
lug nut, coaster, lung, jug, roaster
young thug poster, unplugged toaster

[verse 2: eminem]
you say you’re affiliated with murderers, k!llers (ayy!)
the people you run with are thuggin’ (gang!)
but you just a wannabe gunner (gang!)
like you was gonna do somethin’
actin’ like you catchin’ bodies (ayy!)
and you got juice, lil’ youngin’, you buggin’
you ain’t never even been charged in connection with battery
b*tch, you ain’t plugged into nothin’
rap god spit lyrical bullets (pew!)
and gats c*ck, your partners better tool up
this has not to do with muscular
but have guns for sure, you better put a
strap on, other words if you’re gonna
roll up with your (gang!) you’re gon’ need a *rs*nal
’cause this bar is over your head
so you better⁠—{gun c*ck}⁠—have arms if you’re gonna pull up (skrrt!)
oh, you run the streets, huh?
now you wanna come and f*ck with me, huh?
this little c*ck*sucker, he must be feelin’ himself
he wants to keep up his tough demeanour
so he does a feature, decides to team up with n9na
but next time you don’t gotta use tech n9ne
if you wanna come at me with a sub, machine gun
and i’m talkin’ to you
but you already know who the f*ck you are, kelly
i don’t use sublims and sure as f*ck don’t sneak*diss
but keep commenting on my daughter hailie
i keep on telling motherf*ckers
but just in case you forgot really and need ja memories jarred like strawberry or pineapple apricot jelly
i respond rarely, but this time shady ’bout to sound off
like a f*ckin’ c*cked semi*glock demi*god
let me put a f*ckin’ silencer on this little
non*threatening blond fairy cornball takin’ shots at me
you’re not ready, fool, break yourself like rock steady crew
obviously, i’m not getting through
we can get it poppin’ like redenbach, letting off like remy ma
heavy artille—ry, godzilla harsh with a hard sh*ll
with a motherf*cking heart bigger than bizarre’s belly
only time you’ll ever say i lost
you’ll be talkin’ ’bout fetty wap, better call diddy
just to try to get me off
and you better hope i don’t call trick trick
b*tch, this sh*t don’t fly in our city
punk, you don’t disrespect ogs, r.i.p. prodigy
sold dre my soul and then told him the moment he signed me
that i’ll be the most hated, though made it
so that there’s no shame, it’s okay to own it
’cause life is a b*tch, she’s a bow*legged ho
but now those days are over
i harvey weinstein a bathrobe hanging open
my code name is groper, i role play with lotion
i f*ck the whole world then i throw away the trojan
old lederhosen with home*made explosives
i blow 80 holes in you
don’t make me go in, i oj the flows
and i’m insult to injury, rolaids to goldman
i’m throat spray and motrin, i throated nicole
as they both there to choke and my whole blade is soakin’
i double*edge sword it ’cause one place i poke and
i stick and i turn in a rotating motion
invisible with the pen, i’m at the pinnacle of sick individuals
stick my d*ck and put the tip in at minimal
i’m f*ckin’ these syllables, i let ’em l!ck on my genitals
i’m a f*cking invincible, indefensible, despicable, difficult pr*ck
a little bit unpredictable, i spit the formidable
that you b*tches f*ckin’ with, the original
i consider me and nickel identical—but not us
the only thing we have in common’s i’m a d*ck and you suck
otherwise one has nothin’ to do with the other
none come close to skunk, bug, soldier
tongue, shrub, shoulder, one month older
sponge, mug, folder, nun, rug, holster
lug nut, coaster, lung, jug, roaster
young thug poster, unplugged toaster

[chorus: eminem]
that’s how much we have in common (yah!)
that’s how much we have in common (whoa!)
up on this mic when we’re on it (yah)
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 nada like us—
(man, f*ck this sh*t, let’s go)

- nitin randhawa lyrics

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