10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Ready or not here we come, here comes trouble in the club
11, 12, 13, pistols big as M-16's
How the fuck we sneak in with this many heaters in our jeans
Nina, two nina's, a piece and they don't even see us
Some shit pops off we squeeze each one, they gonna think it's machine guns
Vanos vo vano, bananas in our flannels
Hands around our colt handles, hold them like roman candles
So, vannas vo vannas, banana fanna fo fannas
Who come back all bananas, banana clips loaded
Managers, bouncers, and the club owners, the motherfuckers don't want us
To come up on and rush in the club and run up in it with a bunch of
Motherfuckers from Runyon, steady poppin' them onions
Ready set to go nut up, prepare to tear the whole club up
Fixin' to get into some shit, just itchin' to choke someone up
You know we finna loc'n when we mix coke with coke and nut rum up
So yeah, yeah, oh what up, see my people throw shit up
See you talk that hoe shit now, when you down you won't get up
And can't sit up your so slit up, the ambulance won't sew you up
They just throw you up in the trunk once they tag your big toe up
Heater no heater, automatic no matic
Mac or no mac it don't matter if I have or don't have it
You never know what I'm packin' so you just don't want no static
And open up a whole can of whoop ass, you don't wanna chance to
Risk it no biscuit, milli mac or mac milli
Really woody don't be silly, homie you don't know me really
You're just gonna make yourself dizzy wonderin' what the dealy
Fuck it let's just get busy D-Twizzy's back in the hizzy!
Get up now! Let's get it crackin', yeah, it's on and poppin'
This D-12 is back in this bitch, uh, there ain't no stoppin'
We're gonna get it crackalatin'
What you waitin' for the wait is over
Say no more for tryin' to play the wall and quit hatin'
Get up now! Notice you're sittin', what the fuck is you deaf
You motherfuckers don't listen I said
We 'bout to get this motherfucker crackalatin', quit, procrastinatin'
What the fuck you waitin' for get off the wall and quit hatin'
Get up now!
I keep a shit load of bullets a pit bull to pull it out
And automatically explode on motherfuckers until they mouth be closed
Permanently, you get burned until I quickly
You cannot hit me niggas too terrified to come get me
Tempt me if you think Swifty won't send a slug, people run
When the reaper comes, the repercussion gon' leave your blood
Inglewood, steppin' without a weapon, you leave, you gone
I be still rollin' with stolen toasters while on parole
Snatch you out our home, like eviction notices hoe
When I unload, I'm known to never leave witnesses to roam
When I'm blowed, I'll write the wicked in scroll at the toll
When I'm sober I'm prone to roll up and disconnect your soul, nigga
Now it's been proven it's about to be a misunderstandin'
In furniture movin', bullets flyin', lawyers and mothers suin'
'Cause niggas don't know the difference, you bitches just stick to fiction
It's sickenin', you can't even walk in my jurisdiction, rippin' it
Grippin' the pump, and who wanna fuck with a walking psychopathic
Pyromaniac Shady cats with eighty gats
And maybe that's the reason that you gon' get it the worst
And since you jumpin' in front of everybody you gon' get it first
I disperse the crowd with somethin' vigor and versatile
So run and record you verses now while you got a mouth
And it's not a joke, it's some kind of riddle
Kunizzle will lift up a 12 gizzle and throw a party from my equittle
And a glock that you will stop you from walkin'
Bullets'll hit your liver, I'll even shoot native americans an indian giver
nigga, we back in your life and back in your wife
Hit you in your back with a knife and get it crackin' tonight
Hahaha, yeah, D-12, we baacckk
Haha, (Get up now!)
Hahahaha, Runyon Ave soldiers, Amityville
Who the fuck want it with us