Lyrics
Yeah
You know, I've been around for a while now
Not sure if I have much left to prove
Yeah, I do, haha

I look at me now I'm thinkin, "Damn"
How proud of me I am
What I did, it's nothin' to sneeze at
Even if your allergies are bad
I'm up in a balcony in France
I look around, I see the fans
How they surround me in the stands
Probably could drown in a sea of hands
They hollerin', "Shady"
Yellin' it out to me and that's what I mean when I say
That one day someway, somehow, if I get a chance to get a crowd
I'll flip it around and have a crowd give me the chance
I've done it all, man
But in actuality I haven't, yet

Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been (my only question is)
Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been

Got no time for no haters in this bitch
Or toleration for this shit
But like medication, my dedication
And the time it takes to do this shit
Reminds me of how an overcrowded hospital waitin' room'll get
What I mean is maybe I have more patience than I'm able to admit
Yeah, but I'm still mentally stable as a three-legged table in this bitch
Fame was a switch but I was grateful to trade that shit for the trailer with the hitch
Thought it would made me a ravin' lunatic
But I made it through to my situation, I hit pay dirt
Now I get paper like a stapler in this bitch
But just 'cause I made a little bit of change
Don't mean I've changed a little bit
Brain full of wit, dangerous, can't extinguish this English language when it's lit
Now I'm just paradin', you would still get Shady 'til I'm eighty two
I spit this crazy, even Dre he knows I'ma blow
Better get the handkerchief again, haha

Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been (my only question is)
(I know I talk about this shit a lot but)
Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been

Oh, now what am I gonna do?
Can't nothing hold me, I'm on the loose
Born a winner, damn it's so hard to lose
I can do it even when I'm tryin' to
When my record flop, it still go through the roof
This atmosphere's for a chosen few
Who was on their grind, makin' money moves
And you ain't gon' get there if you water down
You gotta take shots with 100 proof

Check that
Been in survival mode
Since a five year old, it was I alone
Since my trike was stole, spiral notebook and microphone
But lookin' back how bad it was then
If it hadn't been for the pad and the pen
Addict mom and deadbeat dad
I wouldn't have the savage within
Havin' to win, every single battle I'm in
All I ever wanted was to be an MC
Tediously I wrote obediently, believing in me
EPMD must've had teachin' degrees
Learn to defeat enemies with the ink, thinkin' of these rhymes
Would be as easy as eatin' graffiti
Would be like remedial readin' to me (yeah)
'Til my last breath leave my lungs, I'ma beat my drums (yeah)
For the streets I'm from (yeah)
The east side slums (yeah)
Gotta remind 'em (yeah)
I take a foe out (yeah), like fee-fi-fum
You see my finger (what), you see my thumb (what?)
You see my fist, fuck a peach pipe bum (what?)
For the smoke but it's not the weed I want (what?)
With this beat I brung for the beef I come (woo)
But you better bring it if you wanna reply from
'Cause for you to be lyrically inclined, it'd be a steep climb up
That'll be an uphill battle
But I'm off kickin' feet in the recliner
And I think I'm up
'Bout to go out on a limb like a tree climber
Time to push my ceiling higher 'cause

Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been
(For the last time, man)
Where am I supposed to go from here? Oh hey, oh-oh-oh
Really I have no idea
All I know is every time I think I hit my ceiling
I go higher than I've ever fuckin' been

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Andre S. Brissett, Luis Edgardo Resto, Marshall B. III Mathers, Michael Jr. Strange, Sylvester Jr. Jordan




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