[Intro: Waajeed and T3 ]

(W-A-A-J-E-E-D)

Ha ha ha ha ha, yeah... yup!

It's serious, go ahead

C'mon down to Detroit

Pussy!

[Verse 1: T3]

See where I'm from, niggas will smoke you for small paper

It's dangerous in The D, beware of 7 Mile players

East don’t like the West, the West say the East is some haters

Gator haven, old school whips, chrome plated

Color-coordinated fabrics, Cartier glasses, yes!

It's the home of them dudes that's fantastic, yes!

They'll bust in your attic and start blasting

Looking for that ganj' – you better have it fast

Bitch-ass, we ask last and then smash

Pass the cops, I don't give a fuck, I'm playin'

Conscious niggas hold pistols in Detroit

This ain't Orange County, nigga, this is Detroit

And I'm a D-boy I'm building the "estroy"

Home of the Lords and the motherfucking Cheddar Boys

Hex Murderer, Trick Trick

We click-click, boom

And let the pistols clear the room, I assume

Come to my city, you better holla

Or watch out for my niggas creeping in Impalas

[Hook: T3]

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

You probably wouldn't get it if you come from out of town

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

We're getting all the paper, man, we're spreading it around

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

They call us Jenny Craig, the way my niggas move pounds

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

We shoot this fucker up and make a nigga run a mile

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

[Verse 2: T3]

And we roll deep, ask some motherfucker about we

We on our feet

Sorry, hardly got me acting rowdy

This is not Bacardi, but this is how we party

Probably step in the joint with some Henny and some Coke

Pardon my coat, I prolly got a nina in my coat

Gucci'ed up loafs, heads up, on my toes, I'ma go

Plus the cash that I throw, it's like it never touch the floor

It's like some roll, roll, roll...

Yeah, such a professional

The blow and the 'dro in the floor near the dresser drawer

Take us a jealous ho, dare you to touch it, though

Violence start piling, we ain't smilin'

Don't you hear them violins? Somebody must have died and

Nobody couldn't survive that moment of silence, uh

[Verse 3: Danny Brown]

Got my D fitted like Magnum PI

Keep the Big Mac on me, for you small fries

Blowing on haze, four deep in the Mercury

Y'all niggas gay like Eddie Mercury

Baby mama going down slow, Ron Burgundy

40 cal' wake niggas early like courtesy calls

Y'all on my balls like Pilate class

Shotty blast, ring of fire, like Johnny Cash

I don't eat rappers, I eat baby mamas

You at Mickey D's, while we at Benihana's

Every time you call she tell you "Low cell"

And when you call back, it's straight voicemail

'Cause she's with the G's – me and T3

SB, Nudie Jeans, you look tacky

Y'all fake like Jackie

Talkin' 'bout murder but we know you just rapping

Talking gun play, but you never made it happen

Talking 'bout work, but your never sold a capsule

Now, is it just me, or these niggas' bars gay like that one on 'Police Academy'?

Actually, these niggas just dumb

Hoes in the village when we walk through the slums

Where me and '3 from, keep a gat

So I guess that's where you at

[Hook: T3]

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

You probably wouldn't get it if you come from out of town

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

We're getting all the paper, man, we're spreading it around

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

They call us Jenny Craig the way my niggas move pounds

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

We shoot this fucker up and make a nigga run a mile

We're some D-Boyz, D-Boyz, D-Boyz

[Outro: T3]

I dare you! Come on

Yup – one, two

And we're killing this rap shit

Black Milk, Guilty Simpson – yup!

Slum Village, Elzhi – yeah

You know how we doin' this shit

Phat Kat!

One, two – Detroit