D12, Big T - Midwest Nigga lyrics

Yo, Big T, Bizarre
Midwest niggas, I don’t give a fuck

George "The Animal" Steele mixed
With Buffalo Bill
Nine concealed, I’m ready to die for real
Everybody, on Earth can get wet
Sixteen Vicodin, fourteen Percocet
Bad, yeah, spot it I get him
Doctors, nurses, hospitals gotta admit it
I beat a bitch down worser than Chris Brown
Move the car into Illinois
How y’all with trey pounds?
Loud sounds, AKs start to click
(Pow, pow) Somebody got they ass hit
Roll kush blunts, got me elevated
January 15th, we still celebratin’
Guns and ammo, I got a lot of toys
A fuckin’ lunatic, I shoot my own boy
I pull that thang, put two in your brain
Yo Big T
(Yo) , my boy James remains (Biz) , fuck it

I lost my mind long time ago
Not when I got shot, long time befo’
So I sleep alongside a fo’
With potato on the belt when they think Idaho
They pull my card, I’d have known
Shuffle niggas’ decks, which way I’d a roll


Beatin’ me is like Big Baby gone rogue

Fuckin’ slow, what else do you wanna know?
I got no love for a fuckin’ hoe
Kick rocks bitch, with your
New boy drop kick, baby thrown in a mosh pit

Constantly shittin’ on niggas
And I’ma pee on hoes
They know lyrically, I keep a diary of flow
And I’m exposin’ you hoes like a picture
You bitch niggas be usin’
Brass knuckles for dentures
I don’t call her
Aim at their brains like a zombie
With a stainless steel and deranged army
I don’t accept sorry
Your bitch be grabbin’ on this
Dick like an Atari joystick
A pussy as wide as a garage
With five SUVs in it
Niggas mistake me like mirages
Till the beef’s ended
They love smilin’ in your face
On some fake shit
All in their necks niggas dick
And they love tastin’ it



Bust in yo’ crib and blow
Your chest through the backdoor
This ain’t checkers bitch, this chess
You did not know? I check yo’ mate and slap
The snot outta nostril
I’m pullin’ your card hoes
Motherfuck that Benedict Arnold
Niggas scared to come around
And get bombed on remain frightened
Like a popped condom inside
Of the vagina of a prostitute
Dyin’ from the common cold
Quick to unload on niggas in an instant
That goes for anybody that’s ridin’
On that bitch shit, fuck you

Much love, I give ‘em pounds and hugs
When you walk away I hit you
In the back with a slug
Your main bitch is on my nuts
Lookin’ horny as fuck without wrestlin’
She said she need my cobra to clutch
On the roll with the 44
I’m packin’ on the bus
Baggin’ up a bunch of bullets like
I’m packin’ for a lunch
Packin’ a punch, I’m Runyon Ave bred
Get your mind right
Or get it blown to the back of your head
Now in hindsight
Shouldn’t have never tested him
Blessed with a curse
Dressed in all black like
I’m grippin’ a hearse, a clever specimen
Captain of my regimen, take me to court
And we can settle out of court
For nine mill is what settlement
Fuck you, the system, and anybody be lined up
Push your moms off the ladder
Of a movin’ firetruck
We the rawest, sniffin’ ‘caine, puffin’ trees
And some and the fedora
I’m grippin’ the stolen wallets
Blaze somethin’ up
Pass the Hennesey or get your mouth split
And your pops beat up out his button up
We be clubbin’ like Ice Cube, and get you
Jumped by a bunch of white dudes
Stomped out with some spiked boots
(Fuck you dude)