D12 Lyrics
"40
Oz"
[Intro (background "WHAT!
WHAT! WHAT!")]
Yeah nigga! It's D12 up in this motherfucker!
You know
how we get nigga we wild in the club
Motherfuckers, everybody get crunk in
Detroit too nigga!
So wile the fuck out!
[Chorus]
Pour
your 40 out. (Guzzle It) [8x]
Bitch!!!
[Bizzare]
We
fucked up,
Let us in the club.
One of y'all niggas gon' catch a slug, (Yeah)
I'm
so drunk I could hurl for a month.
Any nigga pop shit, go to the trunk.
D12
start shit, nigga come get us,
7 Mile Runyan, wild niggas wit us,
Cause
all my niggas is talkin' that shit.
Ain't got no problem, with smackin no bitch.
I'll
have my wife, cut your throat.
Blunts, gans, that's all we smoke
Wild the
fuck out, stab you with a knife,
It's D12 nigga, we ready to fuckin' fight.
[Chorus]
Biiitch
[Eminem]
Who
tryin' to be the first one to catch this blade in the throat!
You know the
po-po don't let me hold them toasters no mo'
I just cut three people, you gon'
be number four
If you don't back the fuck up, and get the fuck up off the flo'.
My
crew is takin over as soon as we hit the do'
You hit the door then we comin'
in and you goin' home.
Security that can't even stop us because they know,
Runyan
Avenue soldiers hold it down wherever we go.
Suckin on our 40's and holdin
up .44's.
We come with toasters like we just opened saving's and loans.
And
we don't need your brew tonight homie we brought our own.
So grab whatever
you sippin on and let's get it on!!!!
[Chorus]
[Kuniva]
We
deep as a motherfuck, we 'bout to get it crunk
You just another punk in the
club about to get jumped
I settle my vendettas with AK's, Berettas
We dont
supposed to be in here with our weapons but still they let us.
Switchblade,
brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckle.
Broken beer bottles, when we walk
in you can smell trouble.
Elbows flying, niggas crying, niggas bleeding, you
retreating.
Run into your car and skatin off, We G'ing
We make example out
of you haters runnin' your mouth.
You the reason why your peoples is pourin
they 40z out.
Dirty Dozen whiling, beat niggas bloodied.
And you gon' have
to pour out a keg for all your homies.
[Chorus]
Biiitch
[Proof]
I
was raised by drunks, so I became a drunk.
80 Proof for this rocker, that's
the name I want.
I'm in the club to beef, you gotta murder me then
Only
talk to a bitch with burgundy hair.
Or the aisle in the back, bump a seven
deuce.
See that top on that 40, you know it's comin' loose.
See me on the
Av. daily, we runnin' this shit.
If your chick get loud, I g-money that bitch.
Packin
mags and clips, I'll smash your clique.
Because of Proof they put the "G"
in the alphabet.
Smoking weed, drinking henny, remy, in that jimmy
Don't
worry if we run out the corner store got plenty.
[Chorus]
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