Top-Songs von Uncle Kracker
Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Uncle Kracker
Leadgesang
Kid Rock
Programmierung
Stefanie Eulinberg
Schlagzeug
Jason Edward Krause
Gitarre
Lynn Owsely
Gitarre
Mike Bradford
Bassgitarre
Jimmie Bones
Tasteninstrumente
Kenny Olson
Leadgitarre
Paradime
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Paradime
Songwriter:in
William Maddox
Songwriter:in
David Moore
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Kid Rock
Produzent:in
Mike Bradford
Mischtechniker:in
Andy Vandette
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Songtexte
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I don't wanna go
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I just as 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
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
Or take you for your shirt
I did it in the Bronx, I did it in Queens
And you can see me do it, do it, down in New Orleans
Fatbacks 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 really rough route
You'll get found face down with your pockets hanging out
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I don't wanna go
If Heaven ain't a lot 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, Kid Rock
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 whining, 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
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I don't wanna go
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I just as 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 reside on the side where the sunrise
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 doesn't show
I got more love for Detroit than 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
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I don't wanna go
If Heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
I just as 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
Writer(s): David Leslie Moore, Billy Maddox
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