(feat. D12, D-Elite)



"You Have Agreed, Not To Try This At Home. Anything Else"



[Proof]

Who am I?

I'm a basterd, I stolen off ya and blast at ya

Smokin' more blacks than the part time wars in Africa

I'll ?? out the martyrs for beef

Rest in piece alot of you reef(?) designing your greef

By snatchin' your brother, smackin' your lover

Paralizing your cousins, smokin' your mother's husbands

A dozen chosen showguns to shotguns

Roll up on you with no guns but still pop one

I bomb like napalm from the curb to your house

And "Please God" the last words out ya mouth

No affiliates, just dogs and troops

Most lyin' death than this morgue and roots

All we choose to beef, I bring spatulas

Flip it and throw it back at ya, so bring your gat with ya

Spectacular murder manufacturer, fuck binacular

Only heaters talkin, I'm trappin ya just to flattin ya

Hop in the accura, roll up on the back of ya

Chill out in 5, and then them niggaz act alive

I smoke branches from off the tree tops

I hang with real niggaz, PA's, PK's and Pete Rock

Y'all niggaz with pre-ops, spill blood and Reeboks

Don't discriminate blastin rookies on the e-box(?)

Your streetforce envolves just for excitement

Like if you wasnt you never heard of enditement

I sum it up quick so that you can understand me

Fuck you, your crew, your bitch and your whole family



[Bizarre]

Bizarre's a villin, bitch I ain't illin

I'll pull your fucking head off while your ass is winddillin'

Go heads the triggers of the penot scott villian(?)

Vericons(?) march, atleast shoot a million

Dirty Dozen the first week? at least a billion

If not, it's back to robbing and stealin'

Bizarre's the illest, the shitty is the worst

A thousand dollars for any nigga that can last longer than a verse

And what's the worst is I don't give a damn

Offer Garth Brooks a stolen grand am

Come to your record label, take all your doe

Take your rap name and have your manager booking you shows

I don't gove a fuck if we don't get along

Bitches know my name without the Slim Shady song, bitch..



We in this bitch with DJ Butter

Who gives a fuck?

We in this bitch with Wallstreet and we don't give a fuck about nothing



"You Have Agreed, Not To Try This At Home. Anything Else?"



[Royce Da 5'9]

Yeah yeah..

What's my motherfucking name? Royce Nickle Nine

A messiah of all, much higher than y'all, undeniably raw

Quick to blow the fuck up and reform again

The bomb threat re-occured, re-warn your men

I promise you get toared up and re-torn again

Not one slur or word will be re-born again

As long as the shit cracks and they turn a loop up

I spit it until it's pitch black and burn the roof up

Better step the fuck up for the shit getting spit

Turns to whips getting lit, turns to tick-tick-tick

Niggaz be rapping just for the clubs, just for the love

That hit you had in the club sound like shit in the truck

That's why I love that nigga X, cause he raised my brow

With every rhyme, without having to take my style

It'll be a cold day in hell when these two soldiers lay in hell

Talk to me



[Billy Nix]

Billy Nix, I'm really sick of this silly shit

Rappers, get on the mic, swearing they're really spit

But you really fake, tough guy stop at your thirty-eight

Drop your gloves and get taped, stop with your murder rate

Alot of kids listening to you

Wishing they you, wishing they was in a position with you to piss on their crew

Buttfuck all your sickness, we got the medicine

I'd rather piss on the capital, shit on the president

X-Government, still flowing, still showing

I know where you niggaz come from, know where you niggaz going

We was all raised in the same dangerous cell

Understand I ain't a stranger to hell, I just don't like it

Rappers say the same thing getting retired

So I write something I like and pray that you bite it

Take an old gangsta rapper and make him retire

Take a young conscious rapper and keep him inspired

Black man, where you at man, take a stand

They taking this rap shit like they took our land

Fuck America that's right, you ain't hear me stutter

Wallstreet, Dirty Dozen with DJ Butter