8 Mile Tree Last Battle
[Lickety Split]
This guy's a choke artist
Ya catch a bad one
Your better off shootin yourself
With Papa Doc's handgun
Climbin up this mountain your weak
Ill leave you lost without a paddle
Floatin shits creek
You ain't Detroit, Im the D
Your the new kid on the block
Bout to get smacked back to the boonedocks
Fuckin Nazi, this crowd ain't your type
Take some real advice and form a group with Vanilla Ice
And what I tell you, you better use it
This guy's a hillbilly, this ain't Willie Nelson music
Trailor trash, Ill choke you to your last breath
And have you lookin foolish
Like Cheddar Bob when he shot himself
Silly Rabbit, I know why they call you that
Cause you follow Future like you got carrots up his asscrack
And when you actin up thats when you got jacked up
And left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up
Ill crack your shoulder blade
Youll get dropped so hard
Elvis will start turnin in his grave
I dont know why they let you out in the dark
You need to take your white ass back across 8 mile
To the trailor park
[Rabbit]
This guy raps like his parents jerked him
He sounds like Eric Sermon, the generic version
This whole crowd looks suspicious
Its all dudes in here, except for these bitches
So Im a German, Eh
Thats ok, you look like a fuckin worm with braids
These Leaders of the Free World rookies
Lookie, how can 6 dicks be pussies
Talkin bout shits creek
Bitch, you could be up piss creek
With paddles this deep
Your still gonna sink
Your a disgrace
Yeah, they call me Rabbit
This is a turtle race
He can't get with me spittin this shit
Wickedly lickety shot
Spickety spickety split lickety
So Im gonna turn around with a great smile
And walk my white ass back across 8 mile!
Lotto]
Yo, I spit a racial slur. Honky, sue me.
This shit is a Horror flick
but the black guy doesn't die in this movie.
Fucking with Lotto dawg you gotta be kiddin.
That makes me believe you really don't have a interest in livin.
You think these niggas gonna feel the shit you say?
I got a better chance joinin the K.K.K.
Know some real shit tho? I like you.
That's why I didn't wanna be the one you commit suicide to.
Fuck Lotto ... call me your leader.
I feel bad I gotta murder that dude from leave it to beaver.
I used to like that show now you got me in fight back mode.
But oh well if you gotta go ... then you gotta go.
I hate to do this. I would love for this shit to last.
So I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my ass.
And all is well that ends ok.
So I'll end this shit with a ... fuck you but have a nice day!
[B-Rabbit]
Ward I think you were a little hard on the Beaver.
So was Eddie Haskel, Wally and Ms. Cleaver.
This guy keeps screamin hes paranoid.
Quick someone get his ass another steroid!
Blah-de-bee-bee, blah blah blah-be-dee-, blooh-blah.
I didn't hear a word you said ... hippity-hoo blah.
Is that a tank top or a new bra?
Look Snoop Dogg has got a fucking boob job!
Didn't you listen to the last round meathead?
Pay attention your saying the same shit that he said.
Matter a fact dawg, here's a pencil.
Go home, write some shit, make it suspenseful
and don't come back until somethin dope hits you.
Fuck it, you could take the mic home with you.
Lookin like a cyclone hit you.
Tanktops screamin "Lotto I don't fit you!"
You see how far them white jokes get you,
boys like "hows Vanilla Ice gonna diss you?"
My motto fuck Lotto.
I'll get your seven digits from your mother for a dollar tomorrow.
rabbit
Now everybody from the 313
Put your mothefucking hands and follow me
Everybody from the 313
Put your mothefucking hands up
Look Look
Now while he stands tough
Notice that this man did not had his hands up
This free world got you gased up
Now who's afraid of the big bad wolf
1, 2, 3 and to the 4
1 pac, 2 pac, 3 pac, 4
4 pac, 3 pac, 2 pac, 1
You're pac, he's pac, no pacs, none
This guy aint no mother-fuckin Mc,
I know everything he's got to say against me,
I am white, I am a fuckin bum, I do live in a trailer with my
mom,
My boy Future is an Uncle Tom.
I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob who shoots
himself in the leg with his own gun,
I did get jumped by all 6 of you chumps
And Wink did fuck my girl,
I'm still standin here screamin "Fuck The Free World!"
Don't ever try to judge me dude
You don't know what the fuck I've been through
But I know something about you
You went to Crankbook, that's a private school
What's the matter dawg? You embarrased?
This is guy's a gangster, he's real name's Clarence
And Clarence lives at home with both parents
And Clarence's parents have a real good marriage
This guy don't wanna battle, He's shook
'Cause there no such things as half-way crooks
He's scared to death
He's scared to look in his fuckin yearbook, fuck Crankbook
Fuck the beat, I go acapella
Fuck a papa doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer, fuck everybody
Fuck y'all if you doubt me
I'm a piece of fucking white trash, I say it proudly
And fuck this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outty,
Here, tell this people something they dont know about me.