Текст песни Proof - Ja in a Bra
Proof - Ja in a Bra слова песни
[Ja Rule Sample]Its murdaaa... hahaha...its murda..We back up in this motherfucker!!!Its murda... yall know who we be (ayo don`t let me catch you!!)R.U.L.E... my nigga Fatal on my 1s, 2s, holla back you bitch ass niggaz!!Yo, yo, motherfuckin cocksuckerIf y`all havnt heard yet that nigga loose change is looseAnd I got proof, get it, I got proof..*beat changes*[Intro - Proof]WOOF!!You know my name, its like this..PROOF!!!D12 shitnotes!Its war now! Lets man up! (WOOF)No prisoners! No casualties! All my riders lets ride then! CMON!(WOOF)[Verse 1]Word on the street is that I murda this IncGet whacked with the hands not deservin the heatinThere`s nerves in this beefTo Irv and his peeps: I ain`t rappin no mo`I speak through the curves in the streetsYa hit`s, man, is weakYa did a poor job, that midget Cookie Monster be hangin` from a door knobYa lucky I don`t like touchin womenAnd don`t like no peace, talk somethin` with Russel Simons, (WOOF)Got the right connectionsMy perception, ya know, would be beefin, ya life is definatly goneThe ?? singin` at least the Woof of rapYou`ll need more than a Bush attack, don`t push me back! (WOOF)You think it`s just 50 and Sha, listen up Ja, no kids in the lobby inDetroit city wishin you DIE!I know you just wanna rap and be Pac, but before its said and doneyou gon` see PAC! (WOOF)[Hook]Yall don`t want war, y`all want talkIn the dark my dogs all bark like WOOF!PROOF, nigga, I`ma WOOFNow you all SHOOKI`ma about to getcha brain pushed BACK![Verse 2]CHRIS GOTTI!!This nigga had the nerve to have ten niggaz sneak me just to get wit meI`m only 160 and the fact isI murder niggaz, DJs, and kittensI only walk out with scratches, wearin a Rolex shirtSo if thats the streets, speakin ya dress don`t hurtYou cowards do something before we do oursI could write a Ja Rule album in two hoursBleedin dead on ya back, have ya pockets flat like Federal Tax andput ya head on the rackI`m so bad, the only thing good is deathAnd L.A. G Unit posted and shook left, (ha, bitch!)I`m from Detroit with the hottest and hollasNiggaz like `yall garbage, don`t even bother`, (haha)Plus ya overweight and gangstas is maddening50 made Wanksta and the definition of wanksta is AINT TOUGHWith pictures of Ja in a braw with a paint brush, paintin his war marksI`m losin my patienceIt ain`t just D12 and Obie, homey, cancel ya shows and show respectlike ya know me, (hehe)It zones and its hailin a jet911 style: to ya face to ya chest911 style: to ya face to ya chestIt`s over, nigga, gettin wet on the set, BLAU!!![Hook] x2[Outro]Haha!I ain`t even talkin no more!I can`t believe my nig can write yo whole ass out, nigga!Whatcha talkin about `that we gave ya the proof!`You scared to come in that club, nigga!You ain`t got shit!I`ma tell you like this: Black Child, Chris Gotti, I`m on that ass!Cmon! See! You niggaz wanna be street niggaz!Who would you wanna recruit?Cause I`ma murd` all you soldiers and recruit ya bosses when this over!Big Proof! D12! Only a one sixty-three!I left out with scratches, nigga!Wait till y`all niggaz come to the D!Yeah, I`m goin to New York! I just love Summer Jams!I`ll be back fuckin with ya bitch!A`yo, Cookie Monster: come get me, nigga!Old ass nigga! *laughs**beat stops*Now don`t make me write some real shit, nigga!