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Текст песни D-12 - 40 Oz.

D-12 - 40 Oz. слова песни

[Intro - Bizarre] (background "WHAT!" - 16x)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![Chorus] (Backround "WHAT!" - 16x)Pour Your 40 out!! Guzzle It! (8x)Bitch![Verse - Bizarre]We fucked up, let us in the clubOne of y`all niggaz gon catch a slugI`m so drunk, I could hurl for a monthAny nigga pop shit, go to the trunkD12 start shit, nigga come get us7 Mile Runyon, wild niggaz wit usCause all my niggaz, is talking that shitAnd got no problem, wit smacking no bitchI`ll have my wife, cut your throatBlunts, cannons, that`s all we smokeWile the fuck out, stab you wit a knifeIt`s D12 nigga, we ready to fucking fight![Chorus][Verse - Eminem]Who`s trying to be the first oneTo catch this blade in the throat?!You know them po po don`t let me hold `em toasters no more!I just clapped at three, you gon be number four!If you don`t back the fuck up and get the fuck off the floor!My crew is taking over as soon as we hit the door!You hit the door, but we comin in and you going home!Security, they can`t even stop us because they know!Runyon Avenue, soldiers hold us down, rep where ever we go!Chugging on our 40`s and holding our forty-fo`s!We come wit toasters like we just opened savings and loans!And we don`t need your brew tonight homie we brought our own!So grab whatever you sipping on and let`s get it on!![Chorus][Verse - 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 wit AKs, barettasWe don`t `posed to be in here wit our weapons but still they let usSwitch blade, brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckleBroken beer bottles, when we walk in you can smell troubleElbows flying, bitches crying, niggaz bleedingYou retreating, running to your car and skating off, re G`ingWe examples outta you haters running yo mouthYou reason why you peoples is pouring they 40`s outDirty Dozen wiling, beat niggaz bloodyAnd you gon have to pour out a keg for all your homies![Chorus][Verse - Proof]I was raised by drunks so I became a drunk80 Proof on this vodka, that`s the name I wantI`m in the club to beef, you gotta murder me deadOnly talk to a bitch - wit burgundy hairOn the Isle in the Vette, bumping Seven Duece!See that top on that 40, you know it`s coming looseSee me on the ave daily, be running this shitIf your chick get loud I`ll G Money that bitchPacking mags and clips, I`ll smash ya cliqueBecause of Proof they put the G in the alphabetSmoking weed, drinking Henny, Remy and that JimmyDon`t worry if you run out the corner store I got plenty![Chorus]

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