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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Song: | Heaven (Kid Rock and Paradime) |
Album: | Double Wide | Genres: | Rock |
Year: | 2000 |
Length: | 259 sec |
Lyrics:
Kracker] If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I don't wanna go If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I just a soon stay home If they ain't got no Eight Mile Like they do up in the D Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City It would be about the same to me It would be about the same to me
[Paradime] Detroit city From Aretha to Aaliyah To Bob Segar to Joe Louis n' his arena and now me Paradime the mic of overachievers Smokin sewer caps bottom feeders and parking meters A bunch of bad dudes in the mad brew and tattoos So think twice before you pass through Or get clapped through whack crews get hurt We can take you for a ride (ride) Or take you for your shirt (shirt) I did it in the Bronx, I did in in Queens And you can see me do it, do it, down in New Orleans Fat backs and greens I'm the scene of amazement You'll be picking all your teeth up from the fuckin pavement Is that Kracker with a C No Kracker with a K Kracker mother fucker all God damn day You could take Gratiot south, but that's a real rough route You'll get found face down with your pockets hangin out
[Kracker] If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I don't wanna go If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I just a soon stay home If they ain't got no Eight Mile Like they do up in the D Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City It would be about the same to me It would be about the same to me
[Kid Rock] My name is... My name is... I'm going platinum Back up in the mother fuckin saddle You wanna battle Kid Rock bitch Your up shit's creek without a paddle I'm no tattle because I do not snitch I lick clits n' drop cock n' twats that spit I spit like hicks and make hit's for flom And that's what you call droppin bombs Got a bullet head dick with a thirty aught six And from a thousand yards I'll hit ya right in the lips...shit Motherfucker's wanna talk about shining Here's four fingers kiss my fuckin diamonds I keep climbing, but these charts ain't shit I'm a whinin, linin, rhymin, son of a bitch I'm the son of shotguns unsung cry And I'm the only MC that'll never die Cause if it's real you'll feel it so check for the name Or look for the dog with the fade in the chain Yeeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhh
[Kracker] If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I don't wanna go If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I just a soon stay home If they ain't got no Eight Mile Like they do up in the D Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City It would be about the same to me It would be about the same to me
[Kracker] Kracker's the name double X in size And I resid on the side were the sun rise See I'll never be touched because I'm outta reach Call me Kracker just be fuckin up spots like bleach Worst in my division I got bitches on the file From the Mississippi River on back to Belle Isle I got style, but it dosn't show I got more love for Detroit then you'll ever know I know cats that sling crack and cats that scrap Cats that bust beer bottles over baseball caps Cats that get drunk and like to spark up skull cats They keep sawed off chillin up in the trunks Whores an 44's, scoops n' blow Faygo bitch We pound cans of Stroh's We run the mitten from the river way up to the farms That's why we get these fuckin D's tattooed on our arms
[Kracker] If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I don't wanna go If Heaven ain't alot like Detroit I just a soon stay home If they ain't got no Eight Mile Like they do up in the D Just send me to Hell or Salt Lake City It would be about the same to me It would be about the same to me
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