|B-Rabbit V.S Lotto 2Nd Battle From 8 Mile Lyrics
I'll spit a racial slur honky sue me,
This shit is a Horror flick, but a black guy doesn't die in this movie.
Messin' with Lotto dawg, you gotta be kiddin'
That makes me believe you really don't have an interest to livin'.
You think these niggas gonna feel the shit you say,
I got a better chance joining the K.K.K.
For some real shit though I like you,
That's why I didn't want to be the one you commit suicide to.
Fuck lotto, call me your leader!
I feel bad that 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's well that ends ok,
So I'll end this shit with a: Fuck you and have a nice day!
Ward, I think you were a little hard on the beaver.
So was Eddie Haskell, Wally, and Ms. Cleaver.
This guy keeps screaming, he's paranoid.
Quick, someone get his ass another steroid!
Blah badi boo blah bah badi bloo blah!
I ain't hear a word you said,
Hipidi hoo bla!
Is that a tank top or a new bra?
Look Snoop Dogg just got a fuckin' boob job!
Didn't you listen to the last round, meat head?
Pay attention, you're sayin' the same shit that he said!
Matter fact dawg, here's a pencil.
Go home, write some shit, make it suspenseful!
And don't come back until something dope hits you...
Fuck it, you can take the mic home with you.
Looking like a cyclone hit you.
Tank top screaming: Lotto, I don't fit you!
You see how far the white jokes get you.
Boy's like: How Vanilla Ice gonna diss you?
My motto: Fuck lotto!
I'll get the seven digits from your mother for a dollar tomorrow! (ohhhhhhhhh)