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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Yelawolf
Yelawolf
Vocals
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Keyboards
Eminem
Eminem
Vocals
Rob Cureton
Rob Cureton
Bass
WLPWR
WLPWR
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Atha
Michael Atha
Songwriter
William Washington
William Washington
Songwriter
Marshall Mathers
Marshall Mathers
Songwriter
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Songwriter
Matthew Hayes
Matthew Hayes
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eminem
Eminem
Mixing Engineer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer
Joe Strange
Joe Strange
Recording Engineer
Matthew Hayes
Matthew Hayes
Recording Engineer
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
Recording Engineer
WLPWR
WLPWR
Producer

Lyrics

Ain't never been much of the church type But I believe in the last days I walk through hell almost every night But I believe it's a pathway Say, boy, what you doin' with your life With those tattoos on your face? Say, boy, you know that you'll pay the price Well, I guess I'll see when I head that way To the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I hold you nearest My best friend (best friend) Let the trumpets blow with your appearance I can almost hear it My best friend (best friend) When you wish me hell upon my soul and spirit Behold these lyrics I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah, I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah I don't know much about Holy Bibles But I grew up in the Bible Belt (uh) I put my love for a woman on idle Because I got beat with my mama's belt But I learned from my mistakes Try hard to respect people for what they believin' in But if you spit on my f- grave And wish me Hell, then I wish you well I'ma send you straight up to my best friend To the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I hold you nearest My best friend (best friend) Let the trumpets blow with your appearance I can almost hear it My best friend (best friend) When you wish me hell upon my soul and spirit Behold these lyrics I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah, I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah God, please would you arm me with the armor To calm me when there's drama like Gandhi? Could have gone the other way many times Could have turned Dalai with the llama, but I squashed my Beefs, and things seem to be looking decent recently, but don't jinx it It's like Clint Eastwood looking for peace though Maybe not finna enter the priesthood But at least should make an attempt to Show some remorse and to be some sort of repenter For the people, I've been a menace to Not a preacher, but a shit-starter and finisher Enter the mind of a thick skin, but a short temper This patience of mine is thinner Than twine is when I Get attacked, so I might say something back that might offend ya So if you don't like when I rap or what I have to Say on the mic, then ya might wanna act just Like quarterbacks and take a f- hike when I snap 'cause I'm a sinner, and I (I got a best friend, best friend) Plus balls and intestines And they never been yes-men They gon' tell me when I'm f- up the minute I'm ever givin' it less than I'm about to vomit and I can feel it comin' 'Cause failure's somethin' I can barely stomach And I only listen to my gut, so unless you're my f- belly button Don't tell me nuttin', you ain't my (best friend, best friend) Who you think I'm talkin' 'bout? Lifts me up when I'm down and out Still look to him without a doubt Still got a best friend (best friend) Shout it out Like there's never been a louder mouth Should have never been allowed a mouth Now that I got a higher power, now When I blackout, power outage - oww They powerless, but they crowd around They tend to flock like shepherds, the black sheep But I'll be the worst thing that these - ever heard When I'm counted out You'll be D-O-A, they'll announce But pronounce you dead when they sound it out So prepare for a rival, your arch enemy surrounds you now He's all around you- pow! Not even the doctors at the hospital are gonna shiggy-shock you back to life It's im-piggy-possible to revive you That's word to the Diggy Doc, Stiggy-stoppin' is not an option Somethin' I'm not gonna do I'm the Iggy Pop of hip-hop when I walk in the booth Dawg, I'm the truth, like Biggie rockin' with 2Pac in a suit Talkin' to Proof, droppin' a deuce Fill up a syllable clip like a refillable script, cock it and shoot And who you think's my Glock that I use That I pull from to get my strength up against these haters? And he'll be waitin' at the gate when you get sprayed up Sendin' you - straight up to deal with my (best friend) To the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I hold you nearest My best friend (best friend) Let the trumpets blow with your appearance I can almost hear it My best friend (best friend) When you wish me hell upon my soul and spirit Behold these lyrics I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah, I got a best friend (best friend) Yeah
Writer(s): Luis Edgardo Resto, Michael Wayne Atha, William Booker Washington, Marshall B. Mathers Iii, Matt Hayes Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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