Written by Sean Anderson/Steve Boone/Brittany Hazzard/Marshall Mathers/Ebony Oshunrinde/John Sebastian/Mark Sebastian/Hoang Nguyen Tran
D#m Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it D#m You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors D#m Clique too big, bread gotta break it D#m 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors D#m What I need? No favors D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors verse 1: Big Sean D#m I'm about gettin' the job done, boy up every night D#m I'm about rollin' a seven when I toss up the dice D#m I'm about gettin' my logo all flooded with ice D#m I'm about takin' a risk that might fuck up your life D#m Tell 'em point and shoot like camera crews In front of cameras too (Brrr!) D#m Damn, Sean, what happened to the humble attitude? D#m I'm like, "Niggas took the flow, but I'm still standin' too." D#m Thought I had the Midas touch, and then I went platinum too D#m Motherfuck all your comparisons (Fuck 'em!) D#m I've been talkin' to God like that's my therapist D#m I'm African-American in America; I ain't inherit shit D#m But a millionaire under 30, so He must be hearin' shit D#m Don, don, don life, I do this for the crib, the D to Flint D#m Kids who get sick with lead, others get hit with the lead D#m From where they need a handout D#m But they tell you put hands up D#m Only deals I had was from the Sam's Club D#m Now it's blue blood in my veins Though you know what I came for D#m Born in a world goin' where they told me I can't go D#m In my lane, though, I'm in the same boat as Usain Bolt D#m Get ahead by any means, so the head's what I aim for D#m When my grandma died I realized I got an angel D#m Show me everything's a blessing, dependin' on the angles D#m Look, I am the anomaly, never needed favors or apologies D#m That's my new lifetime policy D#m Woodgrain steering wheel, this bitch feel like a pirate ship D#m How many hot verses 'til you bitches start acknowledgin' D#m The pictures we been paintin'? My nigga D#m Connected to a higher power—how I know? N.C. 'Cause I don't write this shit, I think it, my nigga D#m Look, all I ever did was beat the odds D#m 'Cause when you try to get even it just don't even out D#m Never stoppin' like we hypnotized D#m Watch what we visualize on the rise D#m Be the GOAT while we alive; when we die, we gon' be the gods Hook: Big Sean D#m Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it D#m You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors D#m Clique too big, bread gotta break it D#m 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors verse 2: Eminem D#m If she was flavor, I won't save her D#m No taste buds, ho, later! D#m Fuck you lookin' at, hater? D#m I saw them eyes, like an ass raper D#m Try to copy my swag like a cheating classmate D#m D#m I'll be the last face you see 'fore you pass D#m D#m When you get your fuckin' ass graded like a math paper D#m So ahead of my time, "late" means I'm early D#m My age is reversing, I'm basically thirty D#m Amazingly sturdy, zany and wordy D#m Brainy and nerdy, blatantly dirty D#m Insanely perverted, rapey and scurvy D#m They blame me for murdering Jamie Lee Curtis D#m Said I put her face in the furnace, beat her with a space heater D#m A piece of furniture, egg beater, thermos D#m It may be disturbing, what I'm saying's cringeworthy D#m But I'm urinating on Fergie, call Shady number 81 D#m Surely I'm turning into the Aaron Hernandez of rap D#m State of emergency, the planet's having panic attacks D#m Brady's returning, matter of fact I may be deserving D#m Of a pat on the back, like a Patriots jersey D#m Inexplicable stomach growl from the pit of it D#m Like a fuckin' Terrier hid in it D#m Despicable, dumb it down, ridiculous D#m Tongue is foul, shoot off at the fuckin' mouth D#m Like a missile, a thunder cloud D#m Hundred pound pistol, pull the trigger, this gun will sound D#m And you'll get a round, like Digital Underground D#m And fuck Ann Coulter with a Klan poster D#m With a lamp post, door handle, shutter D#m A damn bolt cutter, a sandal, a can opener D#m A candle, rubber, piano, a flannel, sucker D#m Some hand soap, butter, a banjo and manhole cover D#m Hand over the mouth and nose smother D#m Trample ran over the tramp with the Land Rover D#m The band, the Lambo, Hummer and Road Runner D#m Go ham donut, or go Rambo, gut her, make an example of her D#m That's for Sandra Bland, ho, and Philando D#m Hannibal on the lam, no wonder I am so stubborn D#m I'm anti, can't no government handle a commando D#m Your man don't want it, Trump's a bitch D#m I'll make his whole brand go under (Yeah) D#m And tell Dre I'm meeting him in L.A. D#m White Bronco like Elway, speeding D#m I'm 'bout to run over a chick, Del Rey CD in? D#m Females stay beating 'em D#m Bet you they'll lay bleeding, and yell, "Wait!" pleading D#m But screaming is pointless, like feeding Michel'le helium D#m Leaving 'em pale-faced, medium-sized welt D#m Straight treating 'em like a cellmate D#m Seedy, I'm climbing hell's gate D#m Bitch, I'm like your problems: self-made D#m Meaning someone else's help ain't needed, 'cause I'ma… Hook: Big Sean D#m Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it D#m You can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it Everything lined up for the takin' And what I need from 'em? No favors D#m Clique too big, bread gotta break it D#m 'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin' D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors D#m What I need? No favors D#m Everything lined up for the takin' D#m And what I need from 'em? No favors Outro D#m (I know you feeling yourself right now.) D#m (But I'm not sure she's the one—I wouldn't call her, man.). D#m "Hey, I'm outside." What are you doing here?