Proof, Purple Gang - Beef Is Ova lyrics

Chants: HELL YEAH ayo, the big Proof
1 sixth of D12, one half of Promatic
All life after death
I heard you, nigga, I heard you
My TV is big like a truck forreal, nigga
I do roll deep nigga cause i'm a boss bitch
See me on them streets ya hear me?
You ain't making my heart hurt nigga
Gonna make y'all hurt
Yo Killa Kaunn where the fuck you at nigga?

I'm sick of these punk pussy
Rappers yapping and flexed
Put the Tech to the back of
Your neck and let it stretch
Royce ain't the king of shit
And i'mma delete the Elite
How you a gangsta but you
Never in the streets? I'll put you in a coma
When you rolling up Magoda
2 shots at y'all Range Rover, game over
Where the fuck is the truth when
I'm up in the booth
Purple Gang, Killa Kaunn
Bitch i'm riding with Proof
My guns will burn like the Seesraw sakes
Bet yo ass get a grouse
That's why you the next Malcolm X
Tre Little gon' get dropped like
Ja Ja's own label
And we only see your videos on Comcast Cable
Local punk pussy
Wishing you was burn in Queens
Donell Jones looking nigga, born to sing
What is y'all, a crew of "has been" thugs?
Wait, you can't be a "has been"
Where your ass never was
Royce you charred and feathered up
Stop fucking with us fo' we blow your truck
We fucking you up
Ja Ja's screaming, "Where's the love for me?"
That’s what happen when your ass
A whore in the industry
And my voice get lost
And still get you a sale
Plus you bitch ass niggas do it via E-Mail
This is Killa Kaunn, top gun in this joint
Dude, my guns is blazing and
They aiming at Royce
I'm the number one street nigga
I got deadly aim, and
You faggots won't remain
Bullet to your brain
If you broke motherfuckers had a
Boss, I'll target that motherfucker
You already lost
Fuck Kino, he mad cause I won the Spitfest
That's a testament to the flow
Cause I spit best purple Gang bitch!

Hey Detroit is you with me y'all?
(Hell, yeah) is Royce from Detroit? (NO)
Straight off 7 Mile? (HELL NO)
Ain't he the king of the D? (NO)
Do y'all love Royce from now? (HELL NO)

This nigga's sick, but i'mma cure his cold
Throw a tissue on a 40 cal and blow his nose
You rock Rhinestones
You can't afford Diamonds
You the king of Wuss City stop lying
(STOP LYING)
Got shells flying, out the Tommy Gun
Niggas bought his bootleg and wanted a refund
Nigga I ain't done, I always bring the drama
You wanna blow up, hugging a suicide bomber
Nigga I'll pop you if I
See you on the streets
But, I won't get a chance
You don't live in the D
You'll be resting in the peace
If you cross the team
I'm the type to shoot your ass
And scream out "FREEZE!"
Nigga please, you don't bust slugs
You a internet gangsta, a E mail thug
Never unloved, nigga
It's gonna be blood puddles
You're surrounded with more Eagles than
McNabb in a huddle

(HELL YEAH) y'all niggas scared of war? (NO)
Bow down to the king? (HELL NO)
Shouldn't I let this slide? (NO)
Y'all gonna let him outside? (HELL NO)

I said take this bitch down
And take his cash
And shoot more holes in his
Face than a Jason mask
They whole crew is bitch and
They captain his wood
He could get karafold but he
Not from the hood
Nigga this is Famous, East side weapon
We catch bodies like Firefighters on 9 11
So that chick better duck
When they're tossed around
A slug'll get y'all stomach
Shown like an ultrasound
Fuck what y'all niggas is on
My whole trick is the crew
And Trey Little, we got AK's bigger than you
(Bitch) and you better duck if one fire
I'll have you with a locked at home
With a vest on like the umpire
Don't feel you with thugs and strongarms
Cause all the wheelchair's gonna give
You is strong arms yeah, you little niggas
We got the streets locked
And the only soldiers y'all ran with
Is a pair of Reeboks
Like it or not I'm the hottest around
40 cal will blow Rhinestones
Up outta your crown laying down
You sleeping with Tech's to your head
Wake you up with a toast
Like breakfast in bed if you high and on P
Then you facing the streets
That's a whole lotta drama
So watch your mouth
Cause if we drop by once and miss you
We gon' double back
And pop your dumbass more times than
The sheet of bubble wrap

Do they got street credit? (NO)
Ain't they built for war? (HELL NO)
Is Detroit past 8 Mile? (NO)
Does a real nigga lie? (HELL NO)

Ayo, it's over, I'm officially announcing
It's over
Ain't no beef out here, ain't no competition
It's grown ass
Men to boys, When it come to the street shit
Ya heard me so y’all motherfuckers keep it
In the mic booth
Don’t step out on the pavement, we
Live right there, you hear me
Purple Gang! Killa Kaunn! Famous! Flame!
First Born! J-Hill! Kuniva! Real
Niggas, niga! They spit
Liver saliva godfather
IF 2 Death, Kaiser Sozet
We do what we ‘sposed to
Picture me on the poster, it’s over