| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I don’t wanna go
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I just a soon stay home
|
| If they ain’t got no Eight Mile
|
| Like they do up in the D
|
| Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| Detroit city
|
| From Aretha to Aaliyah
|
| To Bob Segar to
|
| Joe Louis n' his arena and now me
|
| Paradime the mic of overachievers
|
| Smoking sewer caps, bottom feeders, and parking meters
|
| A bunch of bad dudes in the mad brew and tattoos
|
| So think twice before you pass through
|
| Or get clapped through whack crews get hurt
|
| We can take you for a ride (ride)
|
| Or take you for your shirt (shirt)
|
| I did it in the Bronx, I did in in Queens
|
| And you can see me do it, do it, down in New Orleans
|
| Fat backs and greens
|
| I’m the scene of amazement
|
| You’ll be picking all your teeth up from the fuckin pavement
|
| Is that Kracker with a C
|
| No Kracker with a K
|
| Kracker mother fucker all God damn day
|
| You could take Gratiot south, but that’s a real rough route
|
| You’ll get found face down with your pockets hangin out
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I don’t wanna go
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I just a soon stay home
|
| If they ain’t got no Eight Mile
|
| Like they do up in the D
|
| Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| My name is…
|
| My name is…
|
| I’m going platinum
|
| Back up in the mother fuckin saddle
|
| You wanna battle Kid Rock bitch
|
| Your up shit’s creek without a paddle
|
| I’m no tattle because I do not snitch
|
| I lick clits n' drop cock n' twats that spit
|
| I spit like hicks and make hit’s for flom
|
| And that’s what you call droppin bombs
|
| Got a bullet head dick with a thirty aught six
|
| And from a thousand yards I’ll hit ya right in the lips… shit
|
| Motherfucker’s wanna talk about shining
|
| Here’s four fingers kiss my fuckin diamonds
|
| I keep climbing, but these charts ain’t shit
|
| I’m a whinin, linin, rhymin, son of a bitch
|
| I’m the son of shotguns unsung cry
|
| And I’m the only MC that’ll never die
|
| Cause if it’s real you’ll feel it so check for the name
|
| Or look for the dog with the fade in the chain
|
| Yeeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I don’t wanna go
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I just a soon stay home
|
| If they ain’t got no Eight Mile
|
| Like they do up in the D
|
| Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| Kracker’s the name double X in size
|
| And I resid on the side were the sun rise
|
| See I’ll never be touched because I’m outta reach
|
| Call me Kracker just be fuckin up spots like bleach
|
| Worst in my division I got bitches on the file
|
| From the Mississippi River on back to Belle Isle
|
| I got style, but it dosn’t show
|
| I got more love for Detroit then you’ll ever know
|
| I know cats that sling crack and cats that scrap
|
| Cats that bust beer bottles over baseball caps
|
| Cats that get drunk and like to spark up skull cats
|
| They keep sawed off chillin up in the trunks
|
| Whores an 44's, scoops n' blow Faygo bitch
|
| We pound cans of Stroh’s
|
| We run the mitten from the river way up to the farms
|
| That’s why we get these fuckin D’s tattooed on our arms
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I don’t wanna go
|
| If Heaven ain’t alot like Detroit
|
| I just a soon stay home
|
| If they ain’t got no Eight Mile
|
| Like they do up in the D
|
| Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City
|
| It would be about the same to me
|
| It would be about the same to me |