D12 - Whether or Not (Freestyle) lyrics
[D12 - Whether or Not Freestyle lyrics]
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh?
Where the fuck you think
He started at holmes, huh?
Skip the small talk
Talking is a risk you take
Kick yo' face 'till yo' head go
Through this window and break
Break to the 1-9, Denaun cause the gun-line
And collect bank from every weed
Spot like I'm one time
I'm ain't the remorseful type
I'll drink and still drive prone to
Hit anything at any given night
Fuck leaving my roots
I'm still in cahoots with nincompoops who
Shoot out like troops in Beirut
Pull up in a red hearse with
Fred Durst dressed like a nurse
With a coach purse screaming his throat hurts
On my Harley Davidson
I ride down Main Street
I speed with my dad's name on my ass cheek
Gimme your ones and get robbed
With a broken gun
Got you doing more dances than Puffy's son
All you groupies that wanna get took
You gotta be 12 years old
With a coloring book
And anyone else who wanna get fucked, 'cause
(yeah bitch, oh shit)
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
We interrupt your little world of perfectness
To bring you the shit
To murder conservatives with
To curse and diss, with verses so merciless
These words can just fuck up
Your high worse than this police Sirens
I've killed for less, and dumped bodies in
The motherfuckin' wilderness
I'm a wildebeest
And I've concealed a piece even after
I was busted by Warren Police
You think just because I got
Caught by these cops once
I'm not gonna carry shotguns
To blow your wigs
Back like hamburgers without any top buns
So many damn murders I can't even count one
Two black guns
I don't know maybe they're Magnums
I don't know what the fuck they're called
I just grab them
12-gauge dumps in a drug-fueled
Rage, fuck age
Still goin' through my "fuck you" stage
I'm a 27-year-old eleven-year-old, I'mma
Never grow up, bitch
I ain't gon' ever get old
I'll be sitting here with a cane and a beard
Still insane and as weird as the day I
Came in here, brain in my rear, yeah
So until I'm wrinkled as Robert Van Winkle
I'mma drop a damn single every goddamn week
People it's D12, June 19th, so do like
Me, and go buy three, with no ID
Kids now why you wanna play a game with me
Dangerously the outcome's hot
Once split your brain in three
Proof with crooked raps
Always ask them "What the
Fuck you lookin' at"?
And invite the hook to scrap
I gave my life to God, nigga
Then I took it back move it black
This fuckin' gat'll leave your cookie cracked
Detroit's derelict arrogant terrorist
Straight on you aerospit
Spit at various people to leave you with
A body to get buried with
Every hit was serious
Niggas wanna know how murderous
The Dirty Harry is
When I'm on your front porch
With guns about to bust 'Cause
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
When they run into Swift
They change directions
My shit so tight when hoes hear
It they catch a yeast infection
You need protection, you gon' fear it
I snatch away yo' DNA from existence
With no spirit
Give up the carats or see the nine
Fuckin' with mine is like
Farakhan chewin' up swine, on Christmas
With a white trailer bitch on
His arm, chillin' in Europe
Havin dinner with a Uncle Tom
I attack killin'
Fuckin' hoes like Matt Dillon
Stackin' obituaries higher than
Michael Jackson's ceiling
I leaves nobody livin', I got Satan shiverin'
Hate what I'm deliverin', you know the
Best then send 'em in
Crack you with a fifth of gin
You got your men, but they all wearin'
Skirts like them niggas from Scotland
You hoes are not grim
Don't make me stop in with a mag
And blow yo feet up out yo Top Tens
I'm the one they call in to torture ya
Smackin' your bitch and forcin' her in the
Back seat of an old Corcia
Kuniva's the silent type, but under the
Silence is a violent life
Usually followed by sirens and lights
Get your throat cut by this tyrant's knife
From high as a kite
And my get-a-way driver's drivin' right
Fuckin' with Hans will get you
Flipped like a baton, the deadliest bombs
Wrap around niggas like Camabons
You know I ain't nothin' to play with
Thinkin' you real like The Matrix
Fuckin' with niggas drippin' off self hatred
I'm on some live shit
Rappers be on some "Ready To Die" shit
'Till I put a ice pick, right
Through they eyelids, fuck heaters
I'll knock you out instead of shootin'
I hit hard
Break yo' fuckin' jaw like Resolution
Give up the cash and coat
Or get your little brother's classroom smoked
And the substitue gagged and choked nigga
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
D12, June 19th do 'shrooms like me
Get ready for it trouble soon, baby
You know it
Tell your mama and your sister too
'Cause we fuckin' 'em
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh?
Where the fuck you think
He started at holmes, huh?
Skip the small talk
Talking is a risk you take
Kick yo' face 'till yo' head go
Through this window and break
Break to the 1-9, Denaun cause the gun-line
And collect bank from every weed
Spot like I'm one time
I'm ain't the remorseful type
I'll drink and still drive prone to
Hit anything at any given night
Fuck leaving my roots
I'm still in cahoots with nincompoops who
Shoot out like troops in Beirut
Pull up in a red hearse with
Fred Durst dressed like a nurse
With a coach purse screaming his throat hurts
On my Harley Davidson
I ride down Main Street
I speed with my dad's name on my ass cheek
Gimme your ones and get robbed
With a broken gun
Got you doing more dances than Puffy's son
All you groupies that wanna get took
You gotta be 12 years old
With a coloring book
And anyone else who wanna get fucked, 'cause
(yeah bitch, oh shit)
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
We interrupt your little world of perfectness
To bring you the shit
To murder conservatives with
To curse and diss, with verses so merciless
These words can just fuck up
Your high worse than this police Sirens
I've killed for less, and dumped bodies in
The motherfuckin' wilderness
I'm a wildebeest
And I've concealed a piece even after
I was busted by Warren Police
You think just because I got
Caught by these cops once
I'm not gonna carry shotguns
To blow your wigs
Back like hamburgers without any top buns
So many damn murders I can't even count one
Two black guns
I don't know maybe they're Magnums
I don't know what the fuck they're called
I just grab them
12-gauge dumps in a drug-fueled
Rage, fuck age
Still goin' through my "fuck you" stage
I'm a 27-year-old eleven-year-old, I'mma
Never grow up, bitch
I ain't gon' ever get old
I'll be sitting here with a cane and a beard
Still insane and as weird as the day I
Came in here, brain in my rear, yeah
So until I'm wrinkled as Robert Van Winkle
I'mma drop a damn single every goddamn week
People it's D12, June 19th, so do like
Me, and go buy three, with no ID
Kids now why you wanna play a game with me
Dangerously the outcome's hot
Once split your brain in three
Proof with crooked raps
Always ask them "What the
Fuck you lookin' at"?
And invite the hook to scrap
I gave my life to God, nigga
Then I took it back move it black
This fuckin' gat'll leave your cookie cracked
Detroit's derelict arrogant terrorist
Straight on you aerospit
Spit at various people to leave you with
A body to get buried with
Every hit was serious
Niggas wanna know how murderous
The Dirty Harry is
When I'm on your front porch
With guns about to bust 'Cause
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
When they run into Swift
They change directions
My shit so tight when hoes hear
It they catch a yeast infection
You need protection, you gon' fear it
I snatch away yo' DNA from existence
With no spirit
Give up the carats or see the nine
Fuckin' with mine is like
Farakhan chewin' up swine, on Christmas
With a white trailer bitch on
His arm, chillin' in Europe
Havin dinner with a Uncle Tom
I attack killin'
Fuckin' hoes like Matt Dillon
Stackin' obituaries higher than
Michael Jackson's ceiling
I leaves nobody livin', I got Satan shiverin'
Hate what I'm deliverin', you know the
Best then send 'em in
Crack you with a fifth of gin
You got your men, but they all wearin'
Skirts like them niggas from Scotland
You hoes are not grim
Don't make me stop in with a mag
And blow yo feet up out yo Top Tens
I'm the one they call in to torture ya
Smackin' your bitch and forcin' her in the
Back seat of an old Corcia
Kuniva's the silent type, but under the
Silence is a violent life
Usually followed by sirens and lights
Get your throat cut by this tyrant's knife
From high as a kite
And my get-a-way driver's drivin' right
Fuckin' with Hans will get you
Flipped like a baton, the deadliest bombs
Wrap around niggas like Camabons
You know I ain't nothin' to play with
Thinkin' you real like The Matrix
Fuckin' with niggas drippin' off self hatred
I'm on some live shit
Rappers be on some "Ready To Die" shit
'Till I put a ice pick, right
Through they eyelids, fuck heaters
I'll knock you out instead of shootin'
I hit hard
Break yo' fuckin' jaw like Resolution
Give up the cash and coat
Or get your little brother's classroom smoked
And the substitue gagged and choked nigga
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause
We don't give a fuck
D12, June 19th do 'shrooms like me
Get ready for it trouble soon, baby
You know it
Tell your mama and your sister too
'Cause we fuckin' 'em