Look, if you had one shot, one opportunity To seize everything you ever wanted, one moment Would you capture it, or just let it slip? Yo His palms
Lotto: Yo its time to get rid of this coward right here once and for all Im sick of this mother fucker check this shit out Hah hem yo I'll spit a racial
Now everybody from the 313 Put your motherfucking hands up and follow me Everybody from the 313 Put your mothefucking hands up Look Look Now while
turnin in his grave I don't know why they let you out in the dark You need to take your white ass back across 8 mile to the trailer park (crowd cheers
that long 8 Mile Road Won't you hurry home? Now, won't you hurry home? Hurry down that long 8 Mile Road, hurry home Down that 8 Mile Road, hurry home
If you had... one shot... one oppurtunity... this is everthing you ever wanted.. His Palms are sweaty he's weak arms are heavy the vomit on his shoulders
right now, we can see our 8 miles nigga 8 miles and runnin', got my 7th album droppin' And my 8th album comin', feedin' a thousand growlin' stomachs, Free 6 miles
Yeah, 50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo G-Unit This rap shit plays a major part of my life So if you jeapordize it I got the right To send a mothafucka
Yeah Renegades is back and the beat is sick, Jay Z, Freeway, 8 Miles, let's go... Verse 1 8 miles and running, got my 7 album droppin, And my 8 album
Elvis will start turnin in his grave I dont know why they let you out in the dark You need to take your white ass back across 8 mile To the trailor park
It's in the sky, chronicled The color gleams, ultra clean Stripped back to expose one eye Always waiting patiently, numb Temptation of salvation, crumbling
In the hollow blue is nothing new Somehow, tonight I'm lost in your eyes And I've never been able To find my way back It's time to go untold Leave myself
Black tales, black this Black queers, black dears For a robbery Dead beat, dead heat Dead creep, dead beat The guys you like to meet Your style is always
You led battle field at the bottom where the scum lies Take a good look at your face with your pathetic eyes Reachout to hit the men through to where
Tall tales shattered Pristine images of me Nurtured sadness It's all beautiful to see We can't mix them Flauntless glories Amplified to graduate Constant
Burning ends in the situation Miscommunication leads to complication Born, torn, how do I feel huh? My redemption's the best intentions I'm not degrading
Now everybody from the 313 put ya mothafuckin hands up and follow me Now everybody from the 313 put ya mothafuckin hands Look, look Now as he stands tough
then get off the bus then split Man fuck this shit yo, I'm goin the fuck home World on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road [Chorus] I'm a