Welcome to our world.
Whoa! Yeah! Ahh! (Mutha'Fucka's think they know us)
G-g-g-g Guess whos back? D-Twizze!, O-Twizzie!
Doc-Twizzie!, Shady-Twizzie!, slash Aftermath!
Fiftycent!, G Unit!, Here we go!, Free Yayo!
Mutha'fucka!, Benzino!, They don't know we finna' blow!
Someone betta' tell them so. . .
You don't McVay and I doubt if you understand me,
why would I give a fuck about you if we ain't family?
I roll with a chosen few, and those of you that's behind me,
witness the most potest' ferocious niggas that rhyme.
These bitches turn they back on you, actin' like they ain't did shit,
when you rappin' never mix business up with your friendship.
If you lackin' up in this jungle, then what you breathe fo'?
Niggas's don't love you, you got habits of breaking street codes.
Far as static, I automaticly get medieval
when i'm after people, then I'll explode you bitches with C-4.
These hoe's, have no insurance, bodies get repo',
makin' you vanish even when we ain't got our heat close.
Keepin' .44's where your hoes are swallowing deep throat.
If you owe me dough then you know you falling asleep. Close
nigga's pupils that's what I do. I'm foolish, will shoot you
cause I'm coo-coo, but I don't think niggas be takin' heat though.
See I'm a man, and a man gon' do what he gotta do,
And he ain't really family if he ain't loyal to you.
If they was really soldiers then they would do what we do,
and be loyal to crew and crew is loyal to you.
I don't give a fuck, i'm quick to blaze chronic.
Smoke on so much green, use twelves and supa-sonic.
Bizarre pack guns and knives, put to dick to nuns and wives,
now who the fuck want to fight?
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, ain't nobody fuckin' with the D',
They get beat like a M-P.
You heard about Bizarre takin' all them drugs,
You heard about Proof wilin' in the clubs,
You heard about that nine that Eminem packs.
You diss us, you get you're fuckin' face cracked.
I'm from 7 Mile and stout, I'll shoot up you're house,
next day, i'll pee in you're mouth.
Aiyyo, loyalty's first, all the bullshit second.
I showed you on the record, "Cheers" to who respect it.
Most of these niggas neglect it,
even though it's a known method
from the hectic hood that you slept in.
You wanna' be an exception,
that's when the weapon is leaving you're half steppinwith that 'caine in you're left hand.
Obie from a section that'll stain up you're flesh and
have you on bare breast questionin' you're affection
for streets. D-Twizzy no question,
one of the best groups that done it
and Obie is their reflection.
Lil' homie that knows solely that loyalty is reckoned.
D-Twizzie for life, Obie Trice has said the second.
Which one of you niggas wanna' be boation' "Bump Heads",
when I got a passion for clappin'. . .with one hand.
Talent's on my roster this mobster's in dump land,
send a gangsta to sleep two by two like bunk beds.
Never leave the crib without packing my black burner.
On some T. Ali rapper to merk a have murda.
Incorporated, Hitman Harry is at you're service,
reach for me one more gain' and thats closed.
For life as D12, no ice and spreewells,
every night that I chill in, I fight by free-will.
Knowing I can be killed, leaving my group,
pieces of Proof with a reason to shoot and a license to ill.
We lost Bugz and I'll be damed if we lose another man
from our clan without forcing our hand.
Estorting you're family, i'll slaughter your granny
For my nigga's, I'm on you're motherfuckin' porch with a 'Cammy.
[Kuniva Kon Artis]
Yo its funny how niggas get caught along (and get bombed on).
Knocking teeth in back of you're throat (and break you're jaw bone).
(I'm on ignorant shit) these niggas is bitch,
pass me a cigarrete quick (shit is finna' get thick).
Yo' man i'll get split (by a brutal and critical hit),
with identical dent (or bullets with identical prints).
I'm wishing you if (you come your Lieutenant's a snitch),
your teminant's sick (and we know you ain't finna' do shit).
I'll stick with my clique, (The Kon Artist Bomb Artist),
Kuniva The Rida'. (Shooting through you're fuckin' Long John garments).
Dirty Dozen (We deep in the street).
Unbelivable heat, we'll even lay you out in front of the chief of police, muthafucka'.
D12, Dirty Dozen
Nothing but family up in this muthafucka'.
Loyal to everything that we do.
You ain't neva' gonna' catch none of us