[Intro: Trick Trick]

This one is dedicated to the number one rap group ever

Run-D.M.C. and Jam Master Jay

1-3-1-3! And I say! Argh!

(Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe!)

Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled

Detroit is in this motherfuckin' building

Big Proof, Esham, Trick Trick, Kid Rock

Let's go! (Let's go!)

[Verse 1: Esham]

Together, get cheddar, get cheddar, forever

Retire from this game I'ma have to say never

We bakin', it's cakin', your life'll get taken

Don't be a eyewitness if I'm not mistaken

You snitchin', just listen, niggas cookin' in the kitchen

A murder was committed, I was fittin' the description

A Detroit nigga scandelous, I'm an assassin

Trick Trick ain't gotta hit 'em, I already blast 'em

[Verse 2: Proof]

My name is P (P) I'm from the D (D)

The area code (Code) is 313 (3)

I run with Trick (Trick) I (Kid) with Rock (Rock)

I love Detroit ('Troit) and every block (Block)

I'm down by laws (Laws), screamin' fuck the law (Law)

D12 in the house (House) we the best you saw (Saw)

With a Squad of Goons (Goons) out drinkin' boons (Boons)

The real street riders still reppin' click-boom! (Boom)

[Verse 3: Kid Rock]

Oh, I'm the crook that rocks with thugs and cops

The blacks the whites, the whys and nots

The young the old, the bold and the wicked

Now who here got his Kid Rock tickets?

I can't fix, what isn't broke

So mix me up another Jim Beam and Coke (Coke)

Pass the J (J) chop one out

'Cause that's what a muthafucker's all about!

[Verse 4: Trick Trick]

Detroit riders ride! We gettin' bread, we live!

Blowin pounds of fire! You can't fade us, why?

We players now! These haters die!

We got them killers in spots dwellin' and K'd up, I

Keep my riders close by when most lie

Fake niggas waitin', debatin', but see they don't try

Fo'-five bustin that chopper hot as a pope lyin'

Clean from the scene investigated with no ties

[Interlude]

Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe! Hoe!

[Verse 5: Esham]

Esham the Rap God, Trick Trick and Goon Sqwad

Get any nigga in the industry balloon popped

We waited too long, these bitches won't play our songs

But when the DJ's get they brains blown they screamin' "Y'all wrong"

It's a cold world, so the slugs is like Freon

Dope boy in the hood, hat with the D on

And still I kill at will until the body count pile up

And fuck the industry until they bring 7 Mile up

[Verse 6: Proof]

Pile up the suckers I kill after I'm drillin' 'em

My pockets stay real deep, cash keep fillin' 'em

Triple 7-93-11, that's for Em and them

Any competition that's hot, to hell we sendin' them

I'm known to get busy and my name is Proof

They tried to lock up Trick and didn't have no proof

Hook up the mic and a beat, I'll flow somethin'

The godfather capo was me, I'm cold crushin', rah!

[Verse 7: Kid Rock]

Catch my drift? Here's my point

I'm laid and paid and made in Detroit

The old Mount Clemens, basement bandit

The only real mack left on the planet

You sell CDs at two bucks a pop

I make three hundred Gs every time the bus stops

The Kid, Proof, Esham and Trick

And if you don't dig that you can suck my dick! Rah!