[Verse 1: Proof & Kuniva]

God asked me to do something with Earth

So I came to kill the bling and the blunts, and the verse

Say peace and unity, but still punching you first

Didn't have to join a gang, I was jumped in at birth

Lay your pop dukes out in front of your turf

I am now the Shaq of rap that once was a Smurf

Hunter will murk, mic assassin, assassin

Look at it, I kick ass at the ass end

Come in clashing and mashing

My mind's vaster, so I'm harassing these bastards (Yeah)

And to them cats that got your back, I'm scoliosis

Hip-hop is in my soul, I flow holy ghostest

With the coldest flow spit, is he dope?

Take that to overdose with

So don't ask if I can rap, don't ask if I can scrap

Just lace up the gloves and pass me the plaque

I'm the actual gat for Pac, Big, and Kennedy

Thе illest memory as my Glock rid the еnemies

When I stop the Hennessy

Record execs watch like they feeling me

Gangstas, I box with 'em willingly

Being better than Proof is not your divinity

If I don't know your house, I'll blow your block whole vicinity

When you caught, you'll be shot for the penalties (Grrah)

Slugs'll throw your stomach like mixing vodka and Jimmy Bean

[Verse 2: Kuniva]

Go against the grain, on my Willie Beamen

Is he dreaming? Swifty scheming, fire breathing, nifty heathen

God sent, exorcising fifty demons

Cast 'em out, they get to leaving

Simply genius, Nutso on the roof, asking if we even

Give you something to believe in, all the love reciprocate

While we eating, I'ma feed 'em, serve it on a nickel plate

As we proceed to give you what you need this evening center stage

Yes indeed, they weeded, homies leaning, 'bout to renovate

Kids running through the house screaming like it's winter break

I'm still on you even after winter break (Right)

Hit 'em with the one-two and run his jewels

Nigga, this is give and take

I'm Jason if the room's adjacent, this is Camp Crystal Lake

Feeling like a well-fed infant, I got shit to make

I see that nigga yelling 'bout guns, I know his pistol fake

Plus, they sweet as crème brûlée, you ain't heavyweight

You cowards better pray that karma be gentle on who you led astray

[Verse 3: Swifty McVay, Swifty McVay & Kuniva]

Blast you while you meditate (Boy)

Don't give a damn, two Glocks, I'm Yosemite Sam

Going ham on any man at any time

Whether you crippled or blind, you can even be nine or ninety-nine

I'm enterprising while minimizing

Killing guys with venomous rhymes, a sinister Don

Still in his prime, fucking with mine is iller than Farrakhan

Cooking the swine and sharing wine bottles with white blondes (Nigga)

You slingshotting while I'm tossing a pipe bomb

And I'ma never let bygones be bygones (Nah)

I drive high, the Glock don't have a stash spot

Murderous mascot, I root for the bad guys (Ha, ha)

Detroit's flyest, I'm like Biggie to Bed-Stuy

Mac Dre to the Bay, 2Pac to everybody (What?)

I got a shotty that'll lift your mama so high

That she'll be crashing into an astronaut (Got 'em)

I'm a problem (What?), drama-cidal mobster (What?)

I fly international for hours just to rob you (Ha)

I hide you so deep in the ground that the cops and national guards'll fly to China to try to find ya (Eesh)

You on the block with pom-poms and flowers

And mine is popping like Vietnam and Contra

Speaking on mine, they faces look like they eating a lime

These player haters gonna die with they eyes wide

Dirty Dozen

[Outro: Proof]

Signing out, until next time

And wear your D12 shirts every Friday

Every Friday

Every Friday

Every Friday