Bizarre - Nuthin At All lyrics

Swift (Ha) My Forty-Fo be givin liposucion I blow a hole through your stomach open it up you be spillin your own guts I'm a mad man, a walkin trash can You get beat with my bare hands, f** a last chance A mac-milli to slap you silly The epitamy of what really can be the definition of misery I'm never missin, I'm hittin it I murder mitteney, curb stompin and puncturin kidneys And put a n***a on Ripley's, b**hes i ain't workin I'm on sick leave I'll take your ability to breathe And what that n***a need is a millimeter to eat And have'em kissin on millipedes in the street Bizarre In a fight, I'm first to throw a brick First to load the clip, first to talk sh** But the last one to split, when sh** get dip Stupid b**h get hit with the four-fifth I'm a ex-con who fought in vietnam Every night, I'm thinkin about a bomb I've been so many places, all I do is laugh Big hoes, fat hoes, even baby giraffes I'm on fear factors, eat worms and broccoli Tomatoes, mustard, mixed with guatamaccoli Started a group with Flava Flav, the funny pack I DJ and scratch while he smoke crack Chorus: KonArtist Now who want it with (Us) Please don't forget (That) If you don't give it up we takin it 'Cuz we don't want y'all o get it twisted at all D12 don't give a f** about nuthin at all Now who f**in with (Us) Please don't forget (That) If you don't give it up we takin it back and We don't want y'all o get it twisted at all D12 don't give a f** about nuthin at alllllll Kuniva I'm sure ya mama told you, n***a that d** k** If karma doesn't catch up witchu, then slugs will Now everybody sayin they real and they hug steal Til they find'em layin dead in this tub with blood spilled All over the floor, the carpet, the wall You can call your peoples, my n***a, I'm sparkin'em all Barkin, the dog is bitin for real Starvin and fightin for meals, Bizarre got vicodin pills Swift and Denaun ain't likely to chill, they hot headed You a b**h, yeah I said it I'll bet if God let it happen, then it's over Kuvina's out of his will I just shot through his crib and knocked the snot out of his kids Kon Artist Mr. Porter, Brigade, sideways to next life You in the range, you subject to be one with this knife I clear up a b**hes sight, straight lasik surgery Y'all run to the emergency with an achin urgency Yeah I'm nice courtesly escort you to the imfermary 7 mile, Ruyon ave. 'Till they straight up bury me You expect us to believe that you a scrap and then it cost When you pound a?? 44 dog you lost And i ain't talkin bout a dog he lost I'm talkin bout a f**in puppy when I'm sayin by the dog he lost I scatter cries when I'm haulin off Mozzeltov a n***a'll cross his head with a bottle of scotch Chorus Proof (Don't get it twisted n***a, ya hear me?) Who ever said Scrapping isn't a sport Got me and bizzy in court, shadowboxing an invisible a**ault Proof gon give it to ya raw like O.D.B. Homey please who better than D-twease and Obie T. Phony G's walkin and talkin, Never co*king a co*k gun Macauly Caulkin, actors we droppin ya coffins When my mac speak, you have an R.I.P. list Tatted sewn all from ya neck to ya a** cheek And actually when murderers??? my glock heated Your life is like fat people legs, it's not needed See how high P is, steamin in the snow like how pee is D12 we got this bee-yotch Chorus Ending: KonArtist leading chorus in moans}