Bizarre — Nuthin’ At All

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Текст Bizarre — Nuthin’ At All

My .44 be giving liposuction
I blow a hole through your stomach open it up you’ll be spillin your own guts
I’m a mad man, a walking trash can
You get beat with my bare hands, fuck a last chance
A mac-milli will smack you silly
The epitome of what really can be the definition of misery
I’m never missing I’m hittin’ it
I murder mittiney, curb stompin’ and puncturing kidney
They put a nigga on «Ripley’s», bitches I ain’t working
I’m on sick leave I take your ability to breathe (nigga)
What a nigga need is a millimeter to eat
Have’em kissing on millipedes all in the street
In a fight, I’m first to throw a brick
First to load the clip, first to talk shit
But the last one to split, when the shit get thick
Stupid bitch get hit with the 4−5th
I’m an Ex-con who fought in Vietnam

Every night I’m thinking about a bomb (oh shit)
My dick so many places, all I do is laugh
Big hoes, fat hoes even baby giraffes
I’m On «Fear Factor» eatin’ worms and broccoli
Tomato, Mustard, mixed with Guatamali
Started a group with Flava Flav «The funny Pack»
I dj and scratch while he smoke crack
Now who want it with (us)
Please don’t forget (that)
If you don’t it up we taking it
Cuz we don’t want y’all to get it twisted at all
D12 don’t give a fuck about nothing at all
Now who fucking with (us)
Please don’t forget (that)
If you don’t give it up we takin it back
And We don’t y’all to get twisted at all
D12 don’t give a fuck about nothing at all
I’m sure ya mama told you, nigga that drugs kill (yeah)
If karma doesn’t catch up with you then slugs will
Now everybody saying they real and they hug steal (fo’ real)

‘Till they find’em layin dead in this tub with blood spill
All over the floor, carpet to wall, I’m talking to y’all
You can call your peoples my nigga I’m sparking’em all
Barking at dogs that’s bitin’ for real, starvin’ and fightin’ for meal
Bizarre got Vicodin pills
Swift And Denaun ain’t likely to chill they hot-headed
You a bitch yeah I said it
I bet if God let it happen then it’s over
Kuniva’s out of his wig (yeah)
I just shot up his crib and Knock the snot outta his kids
Mr. Porter, Brigade, sideways to next life
You in the way and you subject to be one with this knife
I clear up a Bitches sight, Straight Lasik Surgery
Y’all run to emergency with an aching urgency
Yeah I’m nice, courteously escort you to the infirmary
7 mile, Runyon Ave. ’till they straight up bury me
You expect us to believe that you scrappin’ when it costs
When you bought a fucking 40 for a dog you lost
And ain’t talking ’bout a dog you loss
I’m talking about a fuckin puppy when I’m sayin’ ’bout a doggy loss
I scatter cries when I’m haulin’ off
Molotov a nigga cross his head with a bottle of Scotch
Don’t get it twisted nigga we here nigga
Whoever said Scrapping isn’t a sport

Got me and Bizzy in court, shadowboxing an invisible assault
Proof gon give it to ya raw like O.D.B
Homey please who better than D-twease and Obie T (Shady)
Phony G’s walkin’ and talkin’, Never cocking a caulk gun
Macaulay Caulkin, actors we droppin’ ya coffins
When my mac speak, you have an R.I.P. list Tatted
So long from ya neck to ya ass cheek
And actually, we’re murderers load my Glock weeded
Your life is like fat people legs it’s not needed
See how high P is, steamin’ in the snow like hot pee is
D12 we got this biatch