• Title:Not Alike
  • Artist:Eminem;Royce da 5'9
  • Album:Kamikaze
  • Karaoke:1★Download Synchronous LRC lyric
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    Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up
    Yeah
    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 (woo!)
    That's how much we have in common
    We are not alike, there's not alike us on the mic (yeah!)
    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'm 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 Kapri Styles and Mya 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)
    Y'all in the stuff like doubled-up Styrofoam cups
    On them uppers-and-downers (woo!)
    I'm in the 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 fuckin' colonic
    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 advance
    I'm fit to be king, you're cut out to fit in prince pants
    Y'all niggas—
    You say you're affiliated with murderers, killers (ayy)
    The people you run with are fucking thuggin
    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)
    And gats cock, your partners better tool up
    This has not to do with muscular
    But have guns for sure, you better put up
    Strap on, in other words if you're gonna
    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 his tough demeanor
    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
    I need Ja memories,
    Jars like strawberry or pineapple, apricot jelly
    I respond rarely, 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
    Obviously, I'm not getting through
    We can get it poppin' like Redenbach
    Heavy artillery, gotta deal a harsh with a hard shell
    With a motherfuckin' heart 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
    Sold Dre my soul and then told him the moment he signed me
    That I'll be the most hated, though made it
    There's no shame, it's okay to own it
    'Cause life is a bitch, it's a [??] legged hoe
    But now days are over,
    I Harvey Weinstein, a bathrobe hanging over
    My code name is groper, I roleplay with lotion
    I fuck 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
    Rolex to Goldman and I'm [??] tryna throw in [??]
    They both hate to choke and my whole plate is soakin'
    And I double-edge sworded 'cause one place I poke
    And I stick and I turn and I rotate emotion
    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