Proof - 2getha 4eva lyrics

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Proof - 2getha 4eva lyrics

[Intro: Trick Trick] This one is dedicated to the #1 rap group ever Run-D.M.C. and Jam Master Jay 1-3-1-3! AND I SAYYYYYYYY! Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled Detroit is in this motherf**in building Big Proof, Esham, Trick Trick, Kid Rock LET'S GO! (LET'S GO!) [Verse 1: Esham] Together, get cheddar, get cheddar, forever Retire from this game I'ma have to say never We bakin, it's cakin, your life'll get taken Don't be a eyewitness if I'm not mistaken You snitchin, just listen, n***as cookin in the kitchen A murder was committed, I was fittin the description A Detroit n***a scandelous, I'm an a**a**in Trick Trick ain't gotta hit 'em, I already blast 'em [Verse 2: Proof] My name is P (P!) I'm from the D (D!) The area code (code!) is 3-1-3 (3!) I run with Trick (Trick!) I (Kid) with Rock (Rock!) I love Detroit ('troit) and every block (block!) I'm down by laws, screamin f** the law (law!) D12 in the house (house) we the best you saw (saw!) With a Sqwad of Goons (Goons!) out drinkin boons (boons!) The real street riders still reppin click-boom! [Verse 3: Kid Rock] Ohhhhhhhhh I'm the crook that rocks, with thugs and cops The blacks the whites, the whys and nots The young the old, the bold and the wicked Now who here got his Kid Rock tickets? I can't fix, what isn't broke So mix me up another Jim Beam and Coke Pa** the J (J!) chop one out Cause that's what a muh'f**er's all about! [Verse 4: Trick Trick] Detroit riders RIDE! We gettin bread, we LIVE! Blowin pounds of FIRE! You can't fade us, WHY? We players NOW! These haters DIE! We got them k**ers in spots dwellin and K'd up (I) keep my riders close by when most lie Fake n***as waitin, debatin, but see they don't try Fo'-five bustin that chopper hot as a pope lyin Clean from the scene investigated with no ties [Interlude] Hoooooo! [9X] [Verse 5: Esham] Esham the rap god, Trick Trick and Goon Sqwad Get any n***a in the industry balloon popped We waited too long, these b**hes won't play our songs But when the DJ's get they brains blown they screamin "Y'all wrong" It's a cold world, so the slugs is like Freon Dope boy in the hood, hat with the D on And still I k** at will until the body count pile up And f** the industry until they bring 7 Mile up [Proof] Pile up the s**ers I k** after I'm drillin 'em My pockets stay real deep, cash keep fillin 'em Triple 7-93-11, that's for Em and them Any competition that's hot, to hell we sendin them I'm known to get busy and my name is Proof They tried to lock up Trick and didn't have no proof Hook up the mic and a beat, I'll flow some'in The godfather capo was me, I'm cold crushin Rahhh! [Verse 6: Kid Rock] Catch my drift? Here's my point I'm laid and paid and made in Detroit The old Mount Clemens, basement bandit The only real mack left on the planet You sell CD's at 2 bucks a pop I make 300 G's every time the bus stops The Kid, Proof, Esham and Trick And if you don't dig that you can s** my dick! RAHHH!