[Intro: Bizarre]
Yeah, Detroit, stand up
Shaaady
Hey Haystak, sorry for the delay
See we been on tour for the last 48 days
We're potluck, you know what I'm saying?
I ain't had time to get back to you I been on my grind, grinding
But it's time now, I'm back in the studio, for your ass n***a!
[Verse 1: Bizarre]
We smoke kush and drink malt liquor
Crazy white boys meet some crazy ass n***as
We pull them triggas, open up your chest
Call the EMS, body such a mess
It's the fat white boy from Nashville, Tennessee
And you ain't heard, 'bout them boys from the D? (You ain't heard?)
It's the no fly zone, ask Shane Capone
We the reason Whitey Ford didn't make it home
Come to Detroit, talking shit
You always talking 'bout pits?
Well watch my dogs sit
D12 nasty, running the streets
You a fake Bubba Sparxxx that can't stay on beat
And we a hundred deep, ready to stomp a ho
Always screaming "family" but you ain't no juggalo
Got kicked off tour, for smacking a girl
We'll come to Nashville, and fuck up your world
And when I see you, I'ma send them slugs
You probably wanna get naked, and wrestle in the mud
Free my own boy and smoke a little bud
Drink some Jägermeisters and get fucked up
You all on camera, showing ten stacks
You need to pay Oktaine father dad back
We get into a boxing match, I'll put you in a daze
And have my nephews, beat the shit outta Lil Blaze
I'm blazing the haze, and popping the pills
(Yo Bizarre chill, yo chill)
[Interlude: King Gordy]
Ayo, chill
Chill Bizarre
N***a let your high guy get at him
King Gordy, Haystak, you are a full blown bitch
[Hook: King Gordy]
Hey Haystak (Bitch)
You are really just a big gay fag (Homo)
Fucking Lil Blaze in his ass, like that, he's a child
You like to jack your pit bulls off quite fast
With your fat white ass
Hey Haystak (Bitch)
Detroit n***as came to Tennessee to rape that
Pretty little mouth that your wife got and you hate that
We came to fuck your little children as some payback
Your rhymes are straight whack (Yeah)
Hey Haystak
[Verse 2: King Gordy]
N***a, Haystak?
You're more like stank fat, fake whack, can't rap, ain't scrapped in years
Got his face slapped and tears came falling, got his chain snatched (Bitch)
Face facts, your rhymes are straight whack
You are garbage trying to start shit with Marshall
But your rhymes were too awful
When he saw you probably laughed so hard
So milk shot out of his nostrils
But you really want Marshall to be your father
Who molested you, want to slob Marshall's nob off
God, you wish you could get pregnant hoping Marshall's the papa
N***a why did you start up?
Why did I even bother?
Where's your wife and your daughter? (Where!?)
See Jeffrey I'm too vicious
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
Wanted to blow Scarface, took a lot to stop you
And Def Jam dropped you ‘cause filling you wasn't possible
You're finished when I hit a menace, shit he'll need a dentist
Wishing that he was Bubba Sparxxx's girlfriend's assistant
So he can assist in, putting Bubba's dick in her mouth
Then take it out, and when he's coming, put it in his
[Interlude: King Gordy]
You fucking faggot (Fag)
Haystak (Bitch), hey fag
You're a full blown bitch
[Hook: King Gordy]
Hey Haystak (Bitch)
You are really just a big gay fag (Homo)
Fucking Lil Blaze in his ass, like that, he's a child
You like to jack your pit bulls off quite fast
With your fat white ass
Hey Haystak (Bitch)
Detroit n***as came to Tennessee to rape that
Pretty little mouth that your wife got and you hate that
We came to fuck your little children as some payback
Your rhymes are straight whack (Yeah)
Hey Haystak
[Outro: Bizarre]
Yeah
See, enough is enough
We tired of hearing you motherfucking talk
Shut your motherfucking mouth up, punk
You diss Eminem, you dissing me
You dissing my city, n***a
And we can't have that, Haystak, ha ha ha
And this [?], we ain't even let loose
You know what I'm saying?
We gon' let the pit bulls out on your ass, the real pitts
Crazy ass n***as, you want it you got it, it's on, ha ha ha
And don't worry 'bout Marshall responding
He too busy dissing real motherfuckers like Mariah Carey
We got you, you light work, biatch