Eminem, Proof, Bugz & The Almighty Dreadnaughtz - Desperados (1997) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Eminem, Proof, Bugz & The Almighty Dreadnaughtz
• Desperados (1997)

[Proof]
Yo,(AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)
Hey, yo turn the heads and the mics up
We got the Dreadknaughts, you know what I'm sayin'
(AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)
Super MC, you know what I mean
Bugz (AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA), Dirty and all that, all that shit
You know what I'm sayin', Desperados with the cars, Eminem!
[Eminem]
Chauvinist pig, drove in this Big Lincoln
Till it went over the bridge
Jumped out and dove in the ditch
Broke in a mobile home and stole a stove and fridge
Kidnapped the parents and left the ransom note for the kids
I'ma go for your mids
Here's a body blow for your ribs
While you're clutching your stomach and bleeding all over your bitch
I know where you live, your girl showed me your crib
Unless she told me a fib
Then I'm gonna have both of ya get did
Burning incense, facing a murder sentence
Under intent, for investigation for killing infants
While I sit in padded rooms doing 'shrooms
Having visions of dead pregnant women with brooms jabbed in their wombs
Slit your carpet and rugs, and fuck your apartment up
Sticking up all the drugs, and jumping in garbage trucks
I'm from the shitty slums that look like the city dumps
Give you a kidney punch, and mug you to get me lunch
See me every summer, layin up against the dumpster
With a one hundred dollar jumper, smothered in southern comfort
Got my Slim Shady sticker on your mother's bumper
She came home screamin a bunch of motherfuckers jumped her...

[Proof]
Ay yo
Proceed to list em, there's no need to diss em
The Herry Heathen, destroy your whole breathing system
Twist em like beer caps, who wants to hear that
Rap, murder rates, and I snap vertebrates
Collapse further states, my track preserve tha grave
Your pack deserve a crate, in fact the word is fake
i'll kill you slow like AID's infested nuts
I'm holding vendetta like seven great-molested sluts
Calling me your bitch nigga? you need to stop
Reality, one on one how many times you got dropped
I'm cut throat when any track runs, conscious when i smack nuns
It's the rough neck that makes Muslims run and pack guns
I'm volcanic (VOLCANIC!), the sermon preacher
Burning MC's most wanted by Herman Kefa
You tried to get a squad, they was like \"money? oh no!\"
Leavin you brain dead, hittin trees with Sonny Bono
I kick without a dojo, D-12 slow flow
Shoot down your mother ship and pimp smack mojo (*smack* yea!)
No pro wanna go knuckle blades with the renegade
Nigga tried to go pop, and plus they minute made
My lieutenant sprayed your brigade, and trampled your flow
Big P, the reason MC's canceled their shows
The truth will hurt, see Proof will work your shame in it
The best part of your show is when you put my name in it
My squad be, godly, fearin shit hardly
So I hope when I'ma die, I dope like Chris Farley
Fuck that

[Bugz]
Who run shit, watch these drums hit
You dove head first into some old dumb shit
Here's a can of ass whip, for you to come get
Your clique made their trip, I made them hoes submit
Ask your girl, she knows the scoop \"don't fuck with Bugz bitch\"
I'll chop off her titti, have you sucking one tit
Them pink belly niggas is who you run with
Making half ass songs, shitty snares and one kick
I hate your damn sound, don't like it one bit
You can make a double album, won't have one hit
Your entire outfit is on some bullshit
And there's not a damn one that I can't out-wit
I admit, that my style is unfit
For mamma's baby boy because I'm on some dumb shit
Like I commit arsony, get harm quick
You pull the alarm switch, I'll stab you in your armpit (BITCH!)
Now who the nit-wit wanna come get with
This egotistic, hip-hop fundamental-istic
Don't risk it, you'll get your shit split
Now keep your distance, and keep e

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