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D-12

D-12

6 Reasons

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Оригинален текст

Proof
You wish that you could bear me black
D12 standing back
No planning that
Def methods, we got a hand in that
Whoever run this s**t
You get a jammed knee cap
Make the healthy get sick
And your fam handicapped
You a fan of rap
My clan attack
Your school, home, your b*tch house
Pull my nine milli
You gon' die with your fist out
Him an his
It's over with
Venom is this
cobra spit
Agressive dialect with agressive
Sober b*tch
My bionic fires demonish atlonics
Demonic is tainted chronic
Impossible to hold down like vomit
Mics I palm it
You stay to bomb it
Like tourists that's Islamic
I enter your atmosphere like a comet
The new god of rap
Call me nigg* Thor
Snap your back
When I slap your as* in a figure four
From miles around they can feel it's lethal
I make hardc*re groups like Wu Tang
Look like the Village People (f*gs)
No sequel
The general let the senistal
Abort your mind state and kill your inner child

Bizarre
It's been a while
Since you b*tch heard of me
Cuz the last six months
I been doing R&B
But now I'm on some sick s**t
better duck quick
You don't know who you're fking with
I'll leave you breathless
Seeing me and Bugz rolling in the blue hummer
You a b*tch, scared to shoot like Lindsay Hunter
Don't need to be a father
Cuz I'm just to illmatic
I'll probably poison my kids
Like flowers in the alley
fk your anorexic neglects it
fk a Lexus
I'm doing drivebys on x x x BMX's

Bugz
I know a girl who said she's prio
And her sign is a Leo
Bugzy fked her in a Regal
And then she took me to my P.O.
fk rollin' ceelo
I'm down to a c-note
Lost a g' rollin' dice at that punk as* casino
But fk it (s**t) cuz when times get bad
See me and drag with the mags
On unsuspecting f*gs (b*tch)
I gotta shoot
b*tch you got the boot
And hurry up with it
I'm trying to catch this prostitute (I got ten)

Kuniva
I'm the nigg* that spotted ya
Spit something hot at ya
Rip your Nautica
Saw you backstage and shot at ya
And kill subliminally
You can go on
And spin your group name 25 times in one song
I'll still write about you
Hip hop is better off without you
Blowing outta they bathrobes
And funky house shoes
For the hell of it
I fk Missy Elliott
Don't give a fk if her belly gets
In my way, I'm still nailing it
Got this verbal tech nine
Spitting at you for telling s**t
Get this dead body off the mic
I'm fkin smelling it

Kon Artis
fk it
Let's have a scrub out
fk around with us and see what happen
We all got them guns blappin
Got y'all back tracking
Ya, we dump bodies in seash*res
Busting DJs over they backs with keyboards
Turn up my levels
Your crew is fruitier than pebbles
Changin you razor back MCs to running trebles
Bust up
Kon Artis, quick to smack your sl*t up
Keep a pack of rubbers
Just in case I gotta nutt up
Brigade style hold 'em out down
That's how it's meant to be
You kick the same s**t
Your whole tape sound like a symphony
Don't say s**t to me
It's DP carry your daughter
Talking girls outta they panties
Dollars and last quarters
Like that horsemen
I'll leave your whack crowns hutless
Watch Defarius come to my show
And leave dreadless
Whoever said this slash rapper and producer
Wouldn't make your head twist
Guard your grill and your necklace

Chorus
I got 6 reasons why we keep s**t coming
Dirty Dozen left running for cover
Hiding behind your lovers
Skirting off peeling rubber
As we shout
"DON'T fcK WITH DIRTY DOZEN"
6 reasons why keep s**t coming
Dirty Dozen left running for cover
Hiding behind your lovers
Skirting off peeling rubber
As we shout
"DON'T fcK WITH DIRTY DOZEN"
I got 6 reasons why we keep s**t coming
Dirty Dozen left running for cover
Hiding behind your lovers
Skirting off peeling rubber
As we shout
"DON'T fcK WITH DIRTY DOZEN"

Yeah yeah b*tch (what what)
We'll bring it to your crew
We'll bring it to your crew
Any of y'all
Die b*tch
Don't fk with Dirty Dozen
Dirty Dozen
Bugz
Proof
Bizarre
Don't fk with Dirty Dozen
Da Brigade b*tch
DJ Head
Don't fk with Dirty Dozen
The saga starts right now
If you ain't down with us from this day on
Then fk you

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