Nuthin' at All Lyrics
| Song | Nuthin' at All |
| Artist | Bizarre |
| Album | Hannicap Circus |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Carlisle, Holton, Johnson ... | |
| (feat. D12) | |
| (Swift) | |
| My .44 be giving lyposuctions | |
| I blow a hole through your stomach open it up you'll be spillin your own guts | |
| I'm a mad man, a walking trash can | |
| You get beat with my bear hands, ******* a last chance | |
| A macmilly will smack you silly | |
| The epitemy of what really can be the definition of misery | |
| I'm never missing im hittin it | |
| I murder mittiney, ??? thumpin and puncturing kidney | |
| They put a ******* on "Ripley's", ******* I ain't working | |
| I'm on sick leave I take your ability to breathe (*******) | |
| What a ******* need is a millimeter to eat | |
| Have'em kissing a millipeed or in the street | |
| (Bizarre) | |
| In a fight, I'm first to throw a brick | |
| First to load the clip, first to talk *******t | |
| But the last one to split, when the *******t get thick | |
| Stupid ******* get hit with the 4.5th | |
| I'm a Ex-??? who fought in Vietnam | |
| Every night I'm thinking about a bomb (oh *******t) | |
| My ******* so many places, all I do is laugh | |
| Big hoes, fat hoes even baby giraffes | |
| I'm On "Fear Factor" eatin worms and broccoli | |
| Tomato, Mustard, mixed with Guatamali | |
| Strated a group with Flava Flav "The funny Pack" | |
| I dj and scratch while he smoke crack | |
| (Chorus: Kon Artis) | |
| Now who want it with (us) | |
| Please don't forget (that) | |
| If you don't it up we taking it | |
| Cuz we don't want y'all to get it twisted at all | |
| D12 don't give a ******* about Nothing At All | |
| Now who ******g with (us) | |
| Please don't forget (that) | |
| If you don't give it up we takin it back | |
| And We don't y'all to get twisted at all | |
| D12 don't give a ******* about nothing at aaaaaaaaaaaall | |
| (Kuniva) | |
| I'm sure ya moma told you, ******* that drugs kill (yeah) | |
| If karma doesn't catch up with you then slugs will | |
| Now everybody saying they real and they hug steal (fo' real) | |
| 'Till they find'em layin dead in this tub with blood spill | |
| all over the floor, carpet to wall, i'm talking to y'all | |
| you can call your peoples my ******* i'm sparking'em all | |
| Barking at dogs that's bitin for real, starvin and fightin for meal | |
| bizarre got viking and pills | |
| Swift And Denaun ain't likely to chill they hot headed | |
| You a ******* yeah I said it | |
| I bet if god let it happen then it's over | |
| Kuniva's out of his will (yeah) | |
| I just shot up his crib and Knock the snot outta his kids | |
| (Kon Artis) | |
| Mr. Porter, Brigade, sideways to next life | |
| You in the way and you subject to be one with this knife | |
| I ??? For ******* life Straight ??? Surgery | |
| y'all run to emergency with an achin urgency | |
| Yeah I'm nice, common courtesy Escourt you to the imfermary | |
| 7 mile, Ruyon ave. 'Till they straoght up bury me | |
| You expect us to believe that you scrap and the it cost | |
| When you ??? a 44 dog you lost | |
| And ain't talking 'bout a doggy loss | |
| I'm Talking about a ****** puppy when i'm sayin 'bout a doggy loss | |
| I scatter cries when I'm haulin off | |
| mozzeltov a *******'ll cross his head with a bottle of Scotch | |
| (Chorus) | |
| (Proof) | |
| Don't get it twisted ******* we here ******* | |
| Who ever said Scrapping isn't a sport | |
| Got me and bizzy in court, shadowboxing an invisible assault | |
| Proof gon give it to ya raw like O.D.B. | |
| Homey please who better than D-twease and Obie .T (Shady) | |
| Phony G's walkin and talkin, Never *******ing a ******* gun | |
| Macauly Caulkin, actors we droppin ya coffins | |
| When my mac speak, you have an R.I.P. list Tatted | |
| So ??? from ya neck to ya ass cheek | |
| And actually when murderers ??? my glock ??? | |
| Your life is like fat people legs it's not needed | |
| Se how high P is, Steamin in the snow like how P is | |
| D12 we got this biatch | |
| (Chorus) |
| zuo qu : Carlisle, Holton, Johnson ... | |
| feat. D12 | |
| Swift | |
| My . 44 be giving lyposuctions | |
| I blow a hole through your stomach open it up you' ll be spillin your own guts | |
| I' m a mad man, a walking trash can | |
| You get beat with my bear hands, a last chance | |
| A macmilly will smack you silly | |
| The epitemy of what really can be the definition of misery | |
| I' m never missing im hittin it | |
| I murder mittiney, nbsp??? thumpin and puncturing kidney | |
| They put a on " Ripley' s", I ain' t working | |
| I' m on sick leave I take your ability to breathe | |
| What a need is a millimeter to eat | |
| Have' em kissing a millipeed or in the street | |
| Bizarre | |
| In a fight, I' m first to throw a brick | |
| First to load the clip, first to talk t | |
| But the last one to split, when the t get thick | |
| Stupid get hit with the 4. 5th | |
| I' m a Ex??? who fought in Vietnam | |
| Every night I' m thinking about a bomb oh t | |
| My so many places, all I do is laugh | |
| Big hoes, fat hoes even baby giraffes | |
| I' m On " Fear Factor" eatin worms and broccoli | |
| Tomato, Mustard, mixed with Guatamali | |
| Strated a group with Flava Flav " The funny Pack" | |
| I dj and scratch while he smoke crack | |
| Chorus: Kon Artis | |
| Now who want it with us | |
| Please don' t forget that | |
| If you don' t it up we taking it | |
| Cuz we don' t want y' all to get it twisted at all | |
| D12 don' t give a about Nothing At All | |
| Now who g with us | |
| Please don' t forget that | |
| If you don' t give it up we takin it back | |
| And We don' t y' all to get twisted at all | |
| D12 don' t give a about nothing at aaaaaaaaaaaall | |
| Kuniva | |
| I' m sure ya moma told you, that drugs kill yeah | |
| If karma doesn' t catch up with you then slugs will | |
| Now everybody saying they real and they hug steal fo' real | |
| ' Till they find' em layin dead in this tub with blood spill | |
| all over the floor, carpet to wall, i' m talking to y' all | |
| you can call your peoples my i' m sparking' em all | |
| Barking at dogs that' s bitin for real, starvin and fightin for meal | |
| bizarre got viking and pills | |
| Swift And Denaun ain' t likely to chill they hot headed | |
| You a yeah I said it | |
| I bet if god let it happen then it' s over | |
| Kuniva' s out of his will yeah | |
| I just shot up his crib and Knock the snot outta his kids | |
| Kon Artis | |
| Mr. Porter, Brigade, sideways to next life | |
| You in the way and you subject to be one with this knife | |
| I nbsp??? For life Straight nbsp??? Surgery | |
| y' all run to emergency with an achin urgency | |
| Yeah I' m nice, common courtesy Escourt you to the imfermary | |
| 7 mile, Ruyon ave. ' Till they straoght up bury me | |
| You expect us to believe that you scrap and the it cost | |
| When you nbsp??? a 44 dog you lost | |
| And ain' t talking ' bout a doggy loss | |
| I' m Talking about a puppy when i' m sayin ' bout a doggy loss | |
| I scatter cries when I' m haulin off | |
| mozzeltov a ' ll cross his head with a bottle of Scotch | |
| Chorus | |
| Proof | |
| Don' t get it twisted we here | |
| Who ever said Scrapping isn' t a sport | |
| Got me and bizzy in court, shadowboxing an invisible assault | |
| Proof gon give it to ya raw like O. D. B. | |
| Homey please who better than Dtwease and Obie . T Shady | |
| Phony G' s walkin and talkin, Never ing a gun | |
| Macauly Caulkin, actors we droppin ya coffins | |
| When my mac speak, you have an R. I. P. list Tatted | |
| So nbsp??? from ya neck to ya ass cheek | |
| And actually when murderers nbsp??? my glock nbsp??? | |
| Your life is like fat people legs it' s not needed | |
| Se how high P is, Steamin in the snow like how P is | |
| D12 we got this biatch | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Carlisle, Holton, Johnson ... | |
| feat. D12 | |
| Swift | |
| My . 44 be giving lyposuctions | |
| I blow a hole through your stomach open it up you' ll be spillin your own guts | |
| I' m a mad man, a walking trash can | |
| You get beat with my bear hands, a last chance | |
| A macmilly will smack you silly | |
| The epitemy of what really can be the definition of misery | |
| I' m never missing im hittin it | |
| I murder mittiney, nbsp??? thumpin and puncturing kidney | |
| They put a on " Ripley' s", I ain' t working | |
| I' m on sick leave I take your ability to breathe | |
| What a need is a millimeter to eat | |
| Have' em kissing a millipeed or in the street | |
| Bizarre | |
| In a fight, I' m first to throw a brick | |
| First to load the clip, first to talk t | |
| But the last one to split, when the t get thick | |
| Stupid get hit with the 4. 5th | |
| I' m a Ex??? who fought in Vietnam | |
| Every night I' m thinking about a bomb oh t | |
| My so many places, all I do is laugh | |
| Big hoes, fat hoes even baby giraffes | |
| I' m On " Fear Factor" eatin worms and broccoli | |
| Tomato, Mustard, mixed with Guatamali | |
| Strated a group with Flava Flav " The funny Pack" | |
| I dj and scratch while he smoke crack | |
| Chorus: Kon Artis | |
| Now who want it with us | |
| Please don' t forget that | |
| If you don' t it up we taking it | |
| Cuz we don' t want y' all to get it twisted at all | |
| D12 don' t give a about Nothing At All | |
| Now who g with us | |
| Please don' t forget that | |
| If you don' t give it up we takin it back | |
| And We don' t y' all to get twisted at all | |
| D12 don' t give a about nothing at aaaaaaaaaaaall | |
| Kuniva | |
| I' m sure ya moma told you, that drugs kill yeah | |
| If karma doesn' t catch up with you then slugs will | |
| Now everybody saying they real and they hug steal fo' real | |
| ' Till they find' em layin dead in this tub with blood spill | |
| all over the floor, carpet to wall, i' m talking to y' all | |
| you can call your peoples my i' m sparking' em all | |
| Barking at dogs that' s bitin for real, starvin and fightin for meal | |
| bizarre got viking and pills | |
| Swift And Denaun ain' t likely to chill they hot headed | |
| You a yeah I said it | |
| I bet if god let it happen then it' s over | |
| Kuniva' s out of his will yeah | |
| I just shot up his crib and Knock the snot outta his kids | |
| Kon Artis | |
| Mr. Porter, Brigade, sideways to next life | |
| You in the way and you subject to be one with this knife | |
| I nbsp??? For life Straight nbsp??? Surgery | |
| y' all run to emergency with an achin urgency | |
| Yeah I' m nice, common courtesy Escourt you to the imfermary | |
| 7 mile, Ruyon ave. ' Till they straoght up bury me | |
| You expect us to believe that you scrap and the it cost | |
| When you nbsp??? a 44 dog you lost | |
| And ain' t talking ' bout a doggy loss | |
| I' m Talking about a puppy when i' m sayin ' bout a doggy loss | |
| I scatter cries when I' m haulin off | |
| mozzeltov a ' ll cross his head with a bottle of Scotch | |
| Chorus | |
| Proof | |
| Don' t get it twisted we here | |
| Who ever said Scrapping isn' t a sport | |
| Got me and bizzy in court, shadowboxing an invisible assault | |
| Proof gon give it to ya raw like O. D. B. | |
| Homey please who better than Dtwease and Obie . T Shady | |
| Phony G' s walkin and talkin, Never ing a gun | |
| Macauly Caulkin, actors we droppin ya coffins | |
| When my mac speak, you have an R. I. P. list Tatted | |
| So nbsp??? from ya neck to ya ass cheek | |
| And actually when murderers nbsp??? my glock nbsp??? | |
| Your life is like fat people legs it' s not needed | |
| Se how high P is, Steamin in the snow like how P is | |
| D12 we got this biatch | |
| Chorus |
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