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lirik lagu i’m on everything – bad meets evil

all these little young kids
ain’t got no direction
sh-t, 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

i’m on syrup, painkillers, cigarette, weed
henny-henny, 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 soberin’ up, alf
cash rules everything, acid tab, hash, ‘rooms
i done woke up with a f-ckin’ tiger in my bathroom
i am f-ckin’ 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, i’m 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

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 soberin’ up, fart
i crush ya brain like a pill crusher, let’s crush a pill, yeah
f-ck, 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’da knew that three in the mornin’ i’d still be up
could barely see up over the steerin’ wheel, crashed the whip
tore a tree up on my way to the dealer’s, tryin’ to re-up
call me brett favre, spell it favre, yep

it’s wrong, other words i just f-cked my rv up
b-tch, 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 b-tch
i’m demonic with the craft
there’s a devil in my noodle, you angel hair pasta
flow’s dreaded like some f-ckin’
tangled hair rastafarian, jamaican

relax man, i’ll send a f-ckin’ axe at you
if you insist on a f-ckin’ accent
bad and evil is back with an epidural, check ya girl
’cause after we pop you up, we poppin’ her up

so, baby, come put ya feet up in these stirrups
your boyfriend better find
another f-ckin’ h-rnets nest to 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

i’m on syrup painkillers
cigarette, speed, henny, cl-ssic

it’s eminem and him again
my sentiments exactly
i told that b-tch to get at me
then the b-tch attacked me

kid you not, i’m lit up as f-ck
tablecloth tucked in my pants then
i’m hearin’ dishes drop
’cause i walked away from my dinner with schmucks

then i aimed to the front of the k-mart
shoppin’ 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 crushin’ pills
what the f-ck’s the motherf-ckin’ deal?
this sh-t’s makin’ me feel like
i’m tryin’ to do a motherf-ckin’ cartwheel up a hill

how many bars, how many tabs? a-c-i-d? y-e-s
’cause i’m sniffin’ m-y-e-s, f-u-c-ked up, and it’s obvious
smoke and henny in my chest, i’m b-a-n-a-n-a-s
i’m a c-o-c-o-n-u-t

put this cd in and you’ll see, the sequel to scary movie
bad is too evil, the roofie to roethlisberger
you are gonna wind up six feet deep under
that sh-t’s creek, so i hope that you want preservers

you could put a t-rd on the plate
silverware on the tablecloth to serve us
you don’t bring sh-t to the table
i mean your grill like a seville
when a mark gets murdered

you pushin’ 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, wowee, sour diesel
how many jars to all my people
i’ll be to 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 sippin’ this p-ss
from my twenty four inch catheter cord

i’m the type that’ll take a bath with a wh-r-
drown her, bang her head on the p-ssenger door
when i’m stashin’ her in the back
smackin’ her forehead on the dash
and it’s accidentally blowin’ a benz jeep h-rn

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 with lindsay lohan and she on

syrup, painkillers, cigarette
weed, hennessy, vodka

- bad meets evil

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