D12 "40 Oz" Слова песни

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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 clubMotherfuckers, everybody get crunk in Detroit too nigga!So wile the fuck out!

[Hook]Pour your 40 out. (Guzzle It) [8x]Bitch!

[Verse 1: Bizzare]We fucked upLet us in the clubOne of y'all niggas gon' catch a slug, (Yeah)I'm so drunk I could hurl for a monthAny nigga pop shit, go to the trunkD12 start shit, nigga come get us7 Mile Runyan, wild niggas wit usCause all my niggas is talkin' that shitAin't got no problem, with smackin no bitchI'll have my wife, cut your throatBlunts, gans, that's all we smokeWild the fuck out, stab you with a knifeIt's D12 nigga, we ready to fuckin' fight

[Hook]

[Verse 2: 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 fourIf 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' homeSecurity that can't even stop us because they knowRunyan Avenue soldiers hold it down wherever we goSuckin on our 40's and holdin up .44'sWe come with toasters like we just opened saving's and loansAnd we don't need your brew tonight homie we brought our ownSo grab whatever you sippin on and let's get it on!!!!

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Kuniva]We deep as a motherfucker, we 'bout to get it crunkYou just another punk in the club about to get jumpedI settle my vendettas with AK's, BerettasWe dont supposed to be in here with our weapons but still they let usSwitchblade, brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckleBroken beer bottles, when we walk in you can smell troubleElbows flying, bitches crying, niggas bleeding, you retreatingRun into your car and skatin off, We G'ingWe make example out of you haters runnin' your mouthYou the reason why your peoples is pourin they 40z outDirty Dozen whiling, beat niggas bloodiedAnd you gon' have to pour out a keg for all your homies

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Proof]I was raised by drunks, so I became a drunkEighty proof on that vodka, that's the name I wantI'm in the club to beef, you gotta murder me thereOnly talk to a bitch with burgundy hairOr the aisle in the back, bump a seven deuceSee that top on that 40, you know it's comin' looseSee me on the Av. daily, we runnin' this shitIf your chick get loud, I g-money that bitchPackin mags and clips, I'll smash your cliqueBecause of Proof they put the "G" in the alphabetSmoking weed, drinking Henny, Remy, and that JimmyDon't worry if we run out the corner store got plenty

[Hook]

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