I'm On Everything

Album: Hell: The Sequel (2011)
  • All these little young kids ain't got no direction
    Shit, these lil' kids is on everything

    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything

    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything

    I'm on syrup painkillers, cigarette, weed
    Sober don't interest me
    I'm on everything
    Bout to sip the liquor like it's Caine
    That's how high I am

    I take painkillers to ease the pain
    Though I ain't in pain
    No, we, ain't the same, we drunk
    I'm on everything

    'Cept when I kick it, gout
    Me sobering up, ha, alf
    Cash rules everything, acid tab, hash, 'shrooms
    I done woke up with a fucking tiger in my bathroom
    I am fucking high, high, high, high
    Menace to society I feel sorry for your mother
    Me and Vicious on 'shrooms
    Call us the Mario brothers
    Back down, we never back down
    Never laid out
    Can't put my back down

    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything

    Painkillers, I call 'em Caine pillars
    'Cause they'll hold me up when I take 'em
    I need a cane and pillows
    I'm on everything

    Sick when I kick it, barf
    Me sobering up, fart
    I crush ya brain like a pill crusher, lets crush a pill yeah
    Fuck, I think I just crushed my last Tylenol three up

    Grab the key up off the counter till the camp all left the crib
    Man, who'd knew that three in the morning I'd still be up
    Could barely see up over the steering wheel, crashed the whip, tore a tree up
    On my way to the dealer's, tryna re-up
    Call me Brett Favre, spell it F-A-V-R, E, yep
    It's wrong, other words I just fucked my RV up
    Bitch, it's on again yeah, break that Klonopin in half
    While I smoke some chronic in the cab with Donovan McNabb
    And I dye my hair back blond again and laugh

    I'm the real macaroni you cheesy bitch, I'm demonic with the craft
    There's a devil in my noodle, you angel hair pasta
    Flows dreaded like some fucking tangled hair rasta
    Farian, Jamaican, relax, man
    I'll send a fucking axe at you if you insist on a fucking accent
    Bad and Evil is back with an epidural, check ya girl
    'cause after we prop you up, we propping her up
    So, baby, come put ya feet up in these stirrups
    Your boyfriend better find another fucking whore to smash the stir up
    We rap like we're on

    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything

    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything
    I'm on everything

    I'm on syrup painkillers, cigarette, speed
    Uh, classic!
    It's Eminem and him again, my sentiments exactly
    I told that bitch to get at me, then the bitch attacked me
    Kid you not, I'm lit up as fuck, tablecloth tucked in my pants
    Then I'm hearing dishes drop, 'cause I walked away from my dinner with schmucks

    Then I aimed to the front of the K-Mart shopping center
    With' a coupon book and a hundred and ten bucks
    And a bunch of change and wife beater with a mustard stain
    I'll crush your brain like I'm crushing pills
    What the fuck's the muthfuckin' deal?
    This shit's making me feel like I'm tryna do a mothafuckin' cartwheel up a hill

    How many bars, how many tabs?
    A-c-i-d, y-e-s, 'cause I'm sniffin n-y-e-s
    F-you-c-k'ed up, and it's obvious
    Smoking Henny in my chest
    I'm b-a-n-a-n-a-s
    I'm a c-o-c-o-n-you-t

    Put this CD in and then you'll see
    The sequel to Scary Movie, bad is to evil,
    the roofie to Roethlisberger
    You are gonna wind up six feet deep
    Under that shits creek so I hope that you brought preservers

    You could put a turd on the plate
    Silverware on the tablecloth to serve us
    You don't bring shit to the table
    I mean your grill like a Seville when a mark gets murdered
    You pushing the envelope, and I'm shovin' that whole post office further
    Right off the surface, to the serpents in the darkest and the farthest corner

    How many bars, how many bars
    Maui, wow wee, sour diesel, how many jars,
    To all my people I'll be the Mars, mommy come on
    She can actually wrap my nut sack 'round the back of her neck in a bathroom stall
    And she can just puke from sipping this piss from my twenty four inch catheter cord

    I'm the type that'll take a bath with' a whore
    Drown her, bang her head on the passenger door
    When I'm stashin' 'er in the back, smackin' her forehead on the dash
    And its accidentally blowin', a Benz jeep horn

    My friends be knowin' that when I'm on a binge, I'm stingy
    Even when I'm ten deep in a room with the MG and and with' Lindsay Lohan and she on
    Syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed, Hennessy, vodka Writer/s: HORACE JACKSON, MARSHALL MATHERS, MARSHALL B III MATHERS, ALEXANDER MERZIN, RYAN MONTGOMERY, DENAUN M PORTER
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management, Bluewater Music Corp.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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