Proof, MC Breed - Ali lyrics

I'm in it witch'all (okay)
Hit big cash, I'll spend it witch'all
Win at the casino bitch, I'm spendin it all
(hey)
Leave in my Spreewells spinnin for y'all
I'm in it for y'all, fact is (whattup)
My contents have character
Plays the background
While I'm listenin to amateurs
With no stamina (uh uhh)
Compared to my flow
You're more or less recycled
Career's on idle keep it comin though
If there's anyone or anybody
That's potent enough, i wanna know
Gorilla, and I'm iller, than a fifth of
Hennessy and Belve', a big bagger killer
Popcorn popper, won't stop 'til I cop enough
Trees to get the whole world fucked up
I'm out of MI, so when I say "Whatupdoe"
Y'all niggas put it on the flow

Hey where you gettin it from, I want
Oh you got some of those, I got
You got a fine-ass broad, I got
And I'm drivin a Benz that get
Oh you got one rolled, I got
And a fat bank roll, I got
You got a house on the hills, I got
And I'm drivin a Benz that get

Uhh, nothin but that Cuervo
Gold and Cold Coronas
Plug with them esse's that live in Arizona
Yeah, put it in your bubble nigga
Know I'm on ya shake them haters off as soon
As they get on ya
Popcorn, all through my perfecto
All I do is chief, it's hard for me to let go

Tecs blow like Del Rio from the land
Of Air Force Ones, Detroit scum blow
(cuatro cincos)
If you want it, if got it, the gettin is good
The best thing movin like a brick in the hood
I'm wishin you would stumble out the club
Fuck your slack
(nigga) we can rumble out in floods
We fuck by choice but fight when we can
I'm good with the mic
But I'm nice with my hands
I ain't for bangin, unless the ass hangin
My last name ain't Kelly, but
Give me brain bitch, c'mon

The name of my crew is D
You got some pills in your pocket, I want
You got a knock baby boy, I got
And I'm ballin on y'all like this is
You got a Tab in your hand, I got
You got a gun on your waist, I got
You got a Roley on your wrist, I want
And I'm pullin my heat to get

This is high octane that
Bang within block range
Nothin but cold blood flow in my hot veins
My shot aim with the pistol ain't the issue
Got the title
"Battle Disciple" came to diss you
Let's get to The Source with
Mics all I need black
Cause 5 mics together, only makes feedback
I'm what every rapper dread like beeswax
Snatch a rapper out his Timbs
Like stems on weed sacks
(He's back) Bitch, I never left
Every step has been Proof to
The fact that I'm evidence
That Detriot co-co locos
The flame slow flow where the snow
Blow and they roll 'dro
My tendencies to spit, end MC's real quick
Pass they Hennessy sips, enemies get ripped
The penalty in vially, your memory dissolve
The energy is wild, mentally I'm foul
The entity now, howls instead of growl
Already raw
Cookin lookin for shook ones to set 'em down
Don't worry about my record sales
(I know this ain't the same
Proof that's in D12)
Damn skippy, my hands swiftly grab a mic
Any man gifted stand with it
It's battle night
Soon as I get in the booth, spittin the truth
This ain't for the Billboards
This is strictly for you

Hey where you gettin it from, I want
Oh you got some of those, I got
You got a fine-ass broad, I got
And I'm drivin a Benz that get
Oh you got one rolled, I got
And a fat bank roll, I got
You got a house on the hills, I got
And I'm drivin a Benz that get