Music Video

You Gon' Learn (feat. Royce Da 5'9" & White Gold) [Official Audio]
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Eminem
Eminem
Vocals
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Keyboards
Billy Preston
Billy Preston
Sampled Artist
Royce Da 5'9"
Royce Da 5'9"
Vocals
Syreeta
Syreeta
Sampled Artist
White Gold
White Gold
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Songwriter
Marshall Mathers
Marshall Mathers
Songwriter
R. Montgomery
R. Montgomery
Songwriter
Bobby Jefrey Yewah
Bobby Jefrey Yewah
Songwriter
Carol Connors
Carol Connors
Songwriter
David Shire
David Shire
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eminem
Eminem
Producer
Royce Da 5'9"
Royce Da 5'9"
Producer
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Additional Producer
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
Recording Engineer
I.V. Duncan
I.V. Duncan
Recording Engineer
Brian “B-Jones” Jones
Recording Engineer
Tony Campana
Tony Campana
Assistant Recording Engineer
Joe Strange
Joe Strange
Assistant Recording Engineer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn I'm a product of properly hoppin' up out of that poverty Profitin' all for coppin' and scrappin' that property all for a possible monopoly Try not to adopt my father's old philosophies Same time I'm prayin' to God that everything works out at his colonoscopy I'm walkin' across a suicidal tightrope intentionally While the demons comin' out of me Wifey's on the side of me talkin' sense into me Without she, I feel incomplete mentally, she's been sent to me Right there since '96, worse nightmare to side chicks Some things are just meant to be (Deal with life) This it for me, give my daughters a kiss for me Y'all call this fame, I call this shit alcoholistic infamy Targettin' my kids and babies through population and gun control Shit make me wanna make a hunnid more Make a bigot racist uncomfortable If y'all against talk and reparation Then I'm not against the thought of separation While the politicians that are white and privileged Ask how is this different from segregation, that's funny bro The segregation is bein' told where I'm gonna go Separation is bein' woke and goin' wherever I wanna go Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn Never sold dope, from the gold rope Wanted one though, they were so dope (yeah) Was a have-not (yeah) 'cause my pockets (uh) Didn't have knots, I was so broke On my last rock, for my slingshot Better haul ass, don't be no slow poke (nope) Through the tall grass, run your ass off (yeah) Oh no, got your pants caught on the fence post Getting chased, by them Jackboys, think it's 'bout to fuzz Like a lint roller they wait 'til it's late, they will tiptoe Through your living room window Take your Nintendo and then skate Making you feel like you got bent over and raped Little boy, you're never gonna get no rope chain Get your shit stole, and your lip swole, I became bitter As I got a little bit older, my hate Was making me get cold, and began to get a chipped shoulder Started to spit vulgar, my ZIP code had been skid row But I ate every single beat that I spit over, the shithole I escaped Then I began to explode, detonate, now the Eastside went schizo Thought my name was B-side 'cause they flipped over my tape And I won't hesitate To get 'em all bent so outta shape Oh shit bro, hold up, wait I just tripped over my cape (Superman) And I'm not gonna let 'em treat the paper like I'm chopping a letter Dre'll tell you how I shred So when you refer to the guy next to the doc, you meant shredder Now the cops wanna set up roadblocks on my head I got several bounties from feds in every county I'm with a gal at a Checkers wiling Bumping "Fuck Da Police" while I'm federales This shit is like Romper Room Why do I feel responsible for these kids? All of whom I'm a father to I'm a God to you, y'all better worship the water I walk on Or y'all gonna meet your Waterloo I get to flippin' the mic' as a murder weapon I'm poppin' an extra clip, then cock and shoot, then I'm popping Do not let me catch you slippin' I will pop up and I'll take a spot from you I'll get to doing what a leaky faucet do But I ain't talkin' drip when I say that I'll get the drop on you Singin' fuck all of you in Autotune I am too volatile and too grizzly to bear Yeah, shit is gettin' to where I can barely even sit in a chair I bust my ass for this shit and I swear It ain't even worth dissing someone so offbeat That they can't even figure out where their words Should hit the kick and the snare Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn Pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn All them pretty bitches leave yo' ass in the earth You ain't sold your last rock, you just better earn But I pray you see tomorrow lil' boy, you gon' learn
Writer(s): Carol Connors, Bobby Jefrey Yewah, Ramon Jr. Ibanga, Marshall B. Mathers Iii, David L. Shire, Ryan Daniel Montgomery, Luis Edgardo Resto, Tim S Schoegje Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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