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(feat. Eminem)[Intro: Bizarre]Yeah...huh...(hip hop, hip hop, hip hop)Turn my mic up a little bit (hip hop)Hit some of this Cali guido(hip hop)Listen to some muthafuckin'... (hip hop)Everybody got a little story they gotta tellNiggaz ain't heard my shit...hahahaThe life of Bizarre...what![Verse 1: Bizarre]Hip hop, that's the way of life (Word?)If you think you're nice, then go grab the mic (Grab it!)Let me tell you my story, 'cause everybody got oneGrab a pen and pad and start to jot someAlways told myself that I would never be losin'Man I ain't had no hood, my mother was always movin' (Damn!)From Detroit to Texas, Texas to Detroit (C'mon!)God damn, Mama, what's the point? (the fuck?)So I would go in my room and pack my little bags (Aughh!)Jump in the truck with my step-dadWhen I was ten years old, I started to feel the hungerGot a little older, man, the force got stronger (Yeah!)And me and my rap partner wasn't seein' eye to eyeSo he picked up and started a group with some other guy
s (Haha)This is hip hop...man, I won't stopYo Big Boi (What up?) Gimme a beatbox[beatbox][Chorus]Hip hop, hip hopHip hopHip hopHip hop[Verse 2: Bizarre]From the hip hop shop to Maurice Malone (Uh-huh)Ten years later, I'm still in the zone (Word?)7 Mile and ??? where a star was born (Yeah!)United we stand, divided we swore (D-12!)And hell yeah, I lived in my car (Yeah!)Bitch, I was homeless, I would have slept in a jar (Hahahaha)And Dirty Management, I wish all the bestBut me and my niggas, we had to do what's best (That's right)It was a mess, all them taxes and accounts (What?)Checks started to bounce, niggas couldn't buy an ounce (Hell yeah)And now that we platinum, they diss our name (What?)Like we won't go to the car and get them thangsAnd beef, sometimes you don't have a choiceTo the fight with Whitey Ford to the beef with Royce (What?!)To the Ja Rules, Benzinos, and niggas in the clubTo the e-dubs and niggas you ain't heard ofAnd man, I don't know how to use a gun (Naw)But I
'll learn quick if the fuckin' beef come![Chorus][Verse 3: Eminem]Man, I thought this was supposed to be hip hop, hip hopI'd rather be fishin' in flip flops, flip flopsOr cross over to country like Kid Rock, did, ICan't see no country singers beefin' over some guitarRiff that Willie Nelson lifted from Bob Seger When I was younger I was so eagerTo have a gun I would do the sameCouldn't wait to get to the shootin' rangeMe and my man Goofy Gary just tryin' to let loose some steamMuthafuckas laughin' 'cause I couldn't aimSo I'd pull the fuckin' target closer and just shoot the thangI used to have this theory: keep three bullets in the gunIt was a mandatory year up here in MichiganFor each bullet if you got no CCW licenseI tried to apply for one, they said it'd take 5-6 monthsWhat the fuck am I supposed to do mean time when rivals come?Hide that sumbitch in the glovebox or inside the trunkNow, back to what my three-bullet theory wasI'm triple platinum, I ain't tryin' to catch no murder one
Figured I'd shoot to wound, probably miss with at least oneBut them other two gon' fuck his shoulder and his kneecap upThen I'ma say it's self defense, how come I had the gunWas because I was at the range, on my way back fromThis dude approached me on some bullshitI'd get a year for each bullet at the mostAs opposed to havin' a full clip in thatThat was my idiotic logic, it was basically for safetyBut it gave me power, and it made me crazyAnd psychotic, I just got retarded once I got itThank God it was empty the night that I got caught with itWhat the fuck, man I thought that it was supposed to be...[Chorus]
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(feat. Eminem)[Intro: Bizarre]Yeah...huh...(hip hop, hip hop, hip hop)Turn my mic up a little bit (hip hop)Hit some of this Cali guido(hip hop)Listen to some muthafuckin'... (hip hop)Everybody got a little story they gotta tellNiggaz ain't heard my shit...hahahaThe life of Bizarre...what![Verse 1: Bizarre]Hip hop, that's the way of life (Word?)If you think you're nice, then go grab the mic (Grab it!)Let me tell you my story, 'cause everybody got oneGrab a pen and pad and start to jot someAlways told myself that I would never be losin'Man I ain't had no hood, my mother was always movin' (Damn!)From Detroit to Texas, Texas to Detroit (C'mon!)God damn, Mama, what's the point? (the fuck?)So I would go in my room and pack my little bags (Aughh!)Jump in the truck with my step-dadWhen I was ten years old, I started to feel the hungerGot a little older, man, the force got stronger (Yeah!)And me and my rap partner wasn't seein' eye to eyeSo he picked up and started a group with some other guy
s (Haha)This is hip hop...man, I won't stopYo Big Boi (What up?) Gimme a beatbox[beatbox][Chorus]Hip hop, hip hopHip hopHip hopHip hop[Verse 2: Bizarre]From the hip hop shop to Maurice Malone (Uh-huh)Ten years later, I'm still in the zone (Word?)7 Mile and ??? where a star was born (Yeah!)United we stand, divided we swore (D-12!)And hell yeah, I lived in my car (Yeah!)Bitch, I was homeless, I would have slept in a jar (Hahahaha)And Dirty Management, I wish all the bestBut me and my niggas, we had to do what's best (That's right)It was a mess, all them taxes and accounts (What?)Checks started to bounce, niggas couldn't buy an ounce (Hell yeah)And now that we platinum, they diss our name (What?)Like we won't go to the car and get them thangsAnd beef, sometimes you don't have a choiceTo the fight with Whitey Ford to the beef with Royce (What?!)To the Ja Rules, Benzinos, and niggas in the clubTo the e-dubs and niggas you ain't heard ofAnd man, I don't know how to use a gun (Naw)But I
'll learn quick if the fuckin' beef come![Chorus][Verse 3: Eminem]Man, I thought this was supposed to be hip hop, hip hopI'd rather be fishin' in flip flops, flip flopsOr cross over to country like Kid Rock, did, ICan't see no country singers beefin' over some guitarRiff that Willie Nelson lifted from Bob Seger When I was younger I was so eagerTo have a gun I would do the sameCouldn't wait to get to the shootin' rangeMe and my man Goofy Gary just tryin' to let loose some steamMuthafuckas laughin' 'cause I couldn't aimSo I'd pull the fuckin' target closer and just shoot the thangI used to have this theory: keep three bullets in the gunIt was a mandatory year up here in MichiganFor each bullet if you got no CCW licenseI tried to apply for one, they said it'd take 5-6 monthsWhat the fuck am I supposed to do mean time when rivals come?Hide that sumbitch in the glovebox or inside the trunkNow, back to what my three-bullet theory wasI'm triple platinum, I ain't tryin' to catch no murder one
Figured I'd shoot to wound, probably miss with at least oneBut them other two gon' fuck his shoulder and his kneecap upThen I'ma say it's self defense, how come I had the gunWas because I was at the range, on my way back fromThis dude approached me on some bullshitI'd get a year for each bullet at the mostAs opposed to havin' a full clip in thatThat was my idiotic logic, it was basically for safetyBut it gave me power, and it made me crazyAnd psychotic, I just got retarded once I got itThank God it was empty the night that I got caught with itWhat the fuck, man I thought that it was supposed to be...[Chorus]

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