Census Bureau feat. D12

歌詞

[Intro: Kon Artis] Yeah, we straight from the census bureau Haha, Runyan Ave We lookin for yo' momma D-12 - where yo' momma at? Miko â€" where yo' momma at? Young Zee, hey Dame - where yo' momma at? I wanna f**k that bitch, her stankin ass Hey Em where yo' momma at? (Ohhhh-ohhhhh) Yo.. [Kon Artis] You know me, Denaun the same ol' nigga I spray paint your car up like Rain-O nigga See me and you are sorta like the same I guess We both rock mics but yours is into our chest You can't do nuttin to me, Runyan Ave's unruly And truly this ain't a movie, you get slapped with the tooly So pass the slimmy and the Hennessy, I got the energy to steal every car in this vicinity, you feelin me? Take it back to when Das EFX was sayin niggity-wiggity-wild Piggity-pow, nigga be out You don't really want war, I'm chillin at your door This uzi will have you bloody windmill-ing on the floor I can't be a punk, my daddy wasn't none I lose a fight after school and I came home and got one You reap what you sew, that shit you oughta know I keep it on the flo' under the seat â€" I ain't a hoe! [Chorus: Kuniva] + (Kon Artis) You know it's been a while but we feelin it now (The rough sound muh'f**ker, niggaz killin it now) Goddamn! You don't want no problems B (Get your name in the obituary column sheet) It's that same ol' shit, niggaz back again (Yo yo, you fallin off, goin back to smokin crack again) Hit the weed (guzzle your Corona) pass the Gin (Better duck cause they back bustin gats again) [Swifty] A basket case indeed; stronger than a can of mace Slap you in the face while you patty-cakin witcha seed I'll be makin all these niggaz wanna take a beam And put it right on my head You don't be takin heed, you probably idol the Feds Havin meetings to recite what I said Liable to have you in a medical room Walk in that bitch with a cell phone then turn it on "You fittin to die holmes!" {*explosion*} Got a chrome that be f**kin up shit worse than I You would swear that I'm a Gemini I kill a guy for nothin - eye to eye And I ain't gotta touch them niggaz face soon as I say somethin Got a pump that'll tear your arm quick, when I leave a carcass You would think you in Death Row's office (AHH!) {*gun clicks*} (Hang a nigga!) I'm ill enough to fall in the middle of moshpits Survive and I'm gettin up high without a flaw bitch! [Chorus] [Proof] I'm a dog on the mic that'll brawl out with Christ Get to cappin at your captain 'til he fall outta life I'm all outta nice, nigga tuck your chain Put holes in your head and finger-f**k your brain Fool f**k this game, I'm poppin at coach Momma dropped me on my head and knew that somethin was broke I ain't feelin nothin you wrote so I'm stompin your throat Show up at the hospital and start punchin your folks I'm a uzi with arms and legs Duty calm your man, before my tooly bomb his head (WHAT!) You wanna take what my 40-cal since you bitch-made Spittin the right game so yo' ass can get laid the f**k down, I don't give a f**k now, whassup? Talkin bout "Clappin" - quit actin, you barely bust nuts Don't get it twisted at the gates, the name is Proof And I'ma kill every man that came with you [Bizarre] Yeah, yeah â€" KNOCK KNOCK! Guess who showed up? 44-mag and tear your whole door up Pink shower cap and, yellow drawers My dick's so small, I can pee on my own balls (hahaha) When it comes to pussy, Bizarre goes to work That's why my mouth smell like hot dogs and yellow Persh (eww!) So tell your momma hit me on my cell phone I ain't home, I'm so wet gettin stoned with Norah Jones [Chorus] [Kuniva] Yo, I chuck niggaz daily, a six-man crew that's born crazy A triple O.G. like Tray Deee (whattup Loc?) I stay sparkin, bitch I got a attitude I step on your shoes and won't say pardon - be cautious! Hidin from the one-time, nutty as I wanna be Wild and disorderly, pissin on your toilet seat Nigga now you know it's me, I got a .44 wit me Bitches all over me, +Sayin Yes+ like Floetry Homie you wanna be a G? Go toe-to-toe wit me It ain't no hoe in me dawg, I shoot out where your colons be Wave the people-mover, crowd-controller Rob niggaz 'til my pockets look greener than Yoda And you know that I'm the +Shady+ type, the crazy type That's probably why promoters never pay me right We a bunch of hooligans, my hands is on the tool again I'm bout to bust a Huey and spray up a f**kin school again [Chorus] [Outro: Bizarre] Yeah.. D-12. Devil's Night.. part two.. The drama.. continues.. KaySlay.. hahahaha..