conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Desperados with the following description: Desperados was an earlier D12 recording, presumably while Eminem was still gaining his footing in pop culture. Bugz raps the third verse in the song, which went on to be sampled as a tribute to him on D12’s second album, D12 World. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro: Proof]
  Yo, ayo, turn the heads up and the mics up
  We got the Dreadknaughts, y'knahmsayin?
  Super MC, y'knahmean?
  Bugz,
   Dirty and all that
  All that shit, y'knahmsayin?
  Desperados with the cars — Eminem!
  [Verse 1: Eminem]
  Chauvinist pig, drove in this big Lincoln
  'Til it went over the bridge
  Jumped out and dove in the ditch
  Broke in a mobile home and stole a stove and a fridge
  Kidnapped the parents and left the ransom note for the kids
  I'ma go for your mids, here's a body blow for your ribs
  While you're clutchin' your stomach
  And bleedin' all over your bitch
  I know where you live, your girl showed me your crib
  Unless she told me a fib, then I'ma have both of you did
  Burning incense, facin' a murder sentence
  Under intense investigation for killin' infants
  While I sit in padded rooms, doin' shrooms
  Havin' visions of dead pregnant women
  With brooms jabbed in they wombs
  Slit your carpet and rugs and fuck your apartment up
  Stickin' up 
  Arbor Drugs
  , and jumpin' in garbage trucks
  I'm from the shitty slums that look like the city dumps
  Give you a kidney punch and mug you to get me lunch
  See me every summer layin' up against the dumpster
  With a hundred dollar jumper, smothered in Southern Comfort
  Got my Slim Shady sticker on your mother's bumper
  She came home screamin' a bunch of motherfuckers jumped her [Verse 2: Proof]
  Ayo, proceed to list 'em, there's no need to diss 'em
  Down here we heat 'em, destroy your whole breathing system
  Twist 'em, like beer caps, once they hear that
  Rap murder rates, and I snap vertebrates
  Collapse further states, my track preserve the great
  Your pack deserve a crate: in fact, the word is fate
  I'll kill you slow like AIDS-infested nuts
  I'm holdin' vendetta like seven great-molested sluts
  Callin' me a bitch nigga, you need to stop
  Reality, one on one, how many times you got dropped?
  I'm cut-throat when any track runs
  Conscious when I smack nuns
  The rough neck that make Muslims run and pack guns
  I'm volcanic, the sermon preacher
  Burnin' emcees, most wanted by Herman Kiefer
  You tried to get a squad, they was like, "Money, oh no."
  Leave you brain-dead, hittin' trees with Sonny Bono
  I kick without a dojo, D12 slow flow
  Shoot down your mothership and pimp-smack mojo
  No pro wanna go knuckle-blades with the renegade
  Nigga tried to go pop, and plus they minute-made
  My lieutenant sprayed your brigade and trampled your flow
  Big P, the reason emcees cancelled they show
  The truth will hurt, seein' Proof at work, no shame in it
  The best part of your show is when you put my name in it
  My squad be godly, fearin' shit hardly
  So I hope when I'ma die dope like Chris Farley [Verse 3: Bugz]
  Fuck that! Who run shit once these drums hit?
  You dove headfirst into some old dumb shit
  Here's a can of asswhip for you to come get
  Your click made they trip, I make them hoes suck mint
  Ask your girl, they know the scoop: don't fuck with Bugz, bitch!
  I'll chop off her titty, have you suckin' one tit
  Them pink belly niggas is who you run with
  Makin' half-ass songs, shitty snares and one kick
  I hate your damn sound, don't like it one bit
  You could make a double album, won't have one hit
  Your entire outfit is on some bullshit
  And there's not a damn one that I can't outwit
  I admit that my style is unfit
  For Momma's baby boy, because I'm on some dumb shit
  Like I commit larceny, give harm quick
  You pull the alarm switch, I stab you in your armpit
  Now, who the nitwit wanna come get with
  This egotistic hip-hop fundamentalistic?
  Don't risk it, you get your shit split
  Now keep your distance and keep existence
  I'm persistent when it comes to bent shit
  I smoked a blunt with my judge right before my sentence
  I'm relentless, to deny is senseless
  Your bitch paid my bill, that's where the hell your rent went
  Fuck that! [Verse 4: Supa Emcee]
  I kill competition, with no way out as an opposition
  Execute the passengers on the flight, my executive decision
  Then reminisce on how Shady the business
  Terrorists acts by Israelis when they visit
  Bombin' the senate, World War III in the makin'
  Murdered the exhibition, team finish, beat the ref senseless
  No time-out, extended play burns over your intermission
  Then christen the battlefield with the blood of Christians
  Cryin' for the Messiah, but he don't listen
  I pop my wig when I top the stove frame, boil sizzlin'
  A pyromaniac cook, I do damage to kitchens
  Fuck Home Depot, I demolition
  When I home improve,
   
  you need Bob here to fix it
  Fuck school and supervision!
  Bit off of financial aid and smoked up my tuition
  Only hang around rappers with explicit lyrics
  And pistol-grip punks for the beefin' — do you wanna get heated?
  [Verse 5: Stilla Shellz]
  I got a mind full of troubles, everything's in doubles
  I buy my guns in couples, no time for placement fumbles
  ‘Cause emcees come and emcees go, with broke flow
  Injured from head to toe, no fitter model, we full-throttle
  You stuck in low, incapable to master flow
  Everything is tactical, livin' mathematical
  I smash the flow, unleash and let go
  I shit like lava, original designer
  Married to marijuana since a minor
  Makin' attempts to sink my battleship
  Could get you bent like fibs, what?
  Applying death-defying feats, maintain to keep my peace
  Flow like the sea when I release these beats over concrete
  [Verse 6: 0-1]
  My presidented transition has taken place
  As I express vocally on the M-I-C-R-O
  Power he cipher, not equality, I deal it
  Lace the track and made it real, now I know my peoples feel it
  Keep their heads bobbin' and the emotionals sobbin'
  Plus a culture-cipher after shows
  , hoes slobbin'
  Knobs love the fuckin' flavor of the icin'
  Plus I'm precise and my double edge continue slicin'