D12 - Rap Game (8 Mile, 2002) | Текст песни

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• D12
• Rap Game (8 Mile, 2002)

[Intro: Bizarre]
The rap game, hip hop 101
The hardest nine to five you'll ever have
You can't learn this shit in no history book
You ready to rap, motherfucker?
You ready to sell your soul? hahaha
The rap game, motha fucka

[Swift]
I'm a disrupted nigga, you made me crazy
You should've slayed me as a baby
Behaving shadier than Wes Craven
And you ain't even gotta pay me
I take pleasure of laying a nigga down daily
You face me, punk it's over, you'll faint fast
I'm never fucked up to where I can't whoop yo' ass
Your neck'll get snapped with bare hands, fuck music
Is he rapping? It's cool but fools, just don't confuse it
What happens: these dudes get rude then I lose it
I'm scandalous, I blow ya two niggas off the atlas
With a gat that's bigger than Godzilla's back nigga
You are not realer, in fact you'll feel the effects
Of a crack dealer, y'all presidents sends me smack
And got a mack 10 with it, so I ain't gotta rap
But I'm thankful for that, don't mistaken me black
Or you'll be stanking in the back of a fucking Cadillac

[Eminem]
I'ma get snuffed, cause I ain't said enough to pipe down
I pipe down, when the {White House} gets wiped out
When I see that little {Cheney} dyke get sniped out
Lights out, bitch adios, goodnight {*gunshot*} (AHH!)
Now put that in ya little pipe and bite down
Think for a minute cause the hype just died down
That I won't go up in the Oval Office right now
And flip whatever ain't tied down upside down
I'm all for America, fuck the government
Tell that C. Delores Tucker slut to suck a dick
Motherfucker ducked, what the fuck? son of a bitch
Take away my gun, I'm gonna tuck some other shit
Can't tell me shit about the tricks of this trade
Switchblade, with a little switch to switch blades
And switch from a six to a sixteen inch blade
Shit's like a samurai sword, a sensei!
Shit just don't change to this day
I'm this way, still tell that ut-slay itch-bay
Uck-say my ick-day, 'scuse my ig-pay atin-lay
But uck-fay you ig-pay (FIFTY!!!!)

[Hook : 50 Cent]
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
And I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
Man, I'm telling you, no it ain't happening
This rap game, this rap game
I ain't selling my soul for this rap game
I ain't digging no hole for this rap game
This rap game, this rap game

[Kon Artis]
I bet you'd rather me drink and drown in my own inequity
But fuck that I'mma rap until y'all all get sick of me
And clutch my nut sack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, fuck the dogs you sic on me
I'm saying you motherfuckers don't know us, quit playing
If I'm broke, then I'm breaking up in the place where you laying
You know, same shit every nigga done in his life
I look at this, why speak on when I want when I write
So why should I ever fear another man
If he bleed like I bleed, take a piss and he stand?
Okay, you win, you can say we can't rap
But no Source never made me not buy an album when they say it was whack

[Kuniva]
I walk in that party and just start busting
Right after I hear the last verse of \"Self Destruction\"
This liquor makes me wanna blast the chrome
To let you know +The Time+ without Morris Day and Jerome (nigga)
I'm low down and shifty, quickly call Swifty
To do a drive-by on the tenth speed with 50
You're feeling lucky? Squeeze
I catch you outside of Chuck E. Cheese
With ya seed, you be an unlucky G
My lifestyle is unstable: a partying addict
They said no fighting in the club so I brought me a 'matic
Coughing the static, I jump niggas, call me a rabbit
Popping the tablet and guns that saw you in half with

[Bridge: 50 Cent]
Believe me, we run this rap shit, fo' sheezy
Make making millions look easy
Everywhere you turn you see me, you hear me
Believe me, before you see my pistol in 3-D
No time to call a peace treaty
Dial 911 cause you need the- police to help you believe me

[Proof]
I snatch the chalk from the sidewalk and piss on the curb
This is absurd, these street niggas twisting my words
We finally could \"Say Goodbye to Hollywood\"
Cause Proof and Shyne man shit nothing in common
The nastiest band with gats in each hand
We never bow down to be a flash in the pan
No remorse, fuck your stature dog
Nothing to do with hands when I clap at y'all
Put your jaw on the ground with the four and the pound
Then I'm gone outta town 'fore the law come around
So we can battle with raps, we can battle with gats
Matter of fact, we can battle for plaques

[Bizarre]
(This rap game) I'm too fucking retarded
I don't give a fuck about my dick, that's why I'm dating Lorena Bobbitt
My crew had an argument, who was the largest
Now they all is dead and I roll as a solo artist
Plus I made all the beats and wrote all the raps
Well, I really didn't, but I did according to this contract
I was thrown in the snow with nowhere to go
Freezing 20 below, forced to join Bel Biv Devoe
My little girl, she shouldn't listen to these lyrics
That's why I glued her headphones to her ear to make sure she hear it
If rap don't work, I'm starting a group with Garth Brooks
Hahahaha, 50 sing the hook

[Hook]


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