If heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
  I don't wanna go
  If heaven ain't a lot like Detroit
  I'd just a soon stay home
  If they ain't got no 8 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 Seger to
  Joe Louis n' his arena an now me
  Paradime the mice of over achievers
  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 thru
  Or get clapped through wack 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
  Fat backs n greens I'm a scene of amazement
  You'll be picking all your teeth up off the fucking pavement
  Is that Kracker with a C?
  Naw 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
  
  (Chorus)
  
  Back in the mother fuckin' saddle
  Wanna battle Kid Rock bitch your up shit's creek with out a paddle
  I'm no tattle cause I do not snitch
  I lick clits n' drop cock n' twats that spit
  I spit like hick's n' mix hits for Flom
  And thats' what you call droppin' bombs
  Got a bullet head dick with a 30 odd 6
  And from a thousand yards I'll hit ya right in the lips...shit
  Motherfuckers wanna talk about shinin'
  Here's four fingers, kiss my fuckin' diamonds
  I keep climbin' but these charts ain't shit
  I'm a whinin', linin', rhymin' son of a bitch
  I'm the son of a 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...yeah!
  
  (Chorus)
  
  Kracker's the name double X in size
  An I reside on the side where the sun rise
  See I'll never be touched cuz I'm outta reach
  Call me Kracker just be fuckin' up spots like bleach
  Worst in my division, I got bitches on 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 n 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 offs chillin' up in their trunks
  Whores an 44's, scoops n blow an fuck Faygo bitch
  We poud cans of Stroh's
  We run the mitten from the river way up to the farms
  That's why we got these fuckin' D's tattooed on our arms