Proof - Beef Is Ova

Artyści:: Proof
Album:
Gatunki:: Rap
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[Intro: Proof]

*Chants: HELL YEAH*
Ayo, the big Proof
1 of 6 of D12, one half of [?]
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 ?

[Verse 1: Killa Kaunn]

I’m sick of this punk pussy rappers yapping [?]
Quick 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 [?]
2 shots to (Child’s ?) 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
[?]
That’s why you don’t (X / ask) Malcolm X
Trey 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
[?]
Wishing y’all crew has been thugs
Wait, you can’t be a „has been” where your ass never was
Royce you [?] 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 I do when you ass was in the industry
[?] 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 get daily aim when you faggots walk with [?] bullet to your brain
If you broke motherfuckers had a boss y’all talking to the motherfucker who already [?]
[?] he mad cause I wanna spit fest, testament to the floor cause I spit fists

Purple Gang bitch

[Hook: Proof]

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)

[Verse 2: Flame]

This nigga’s sick, but i’mma curious 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 Tummy Gun
Niggas bought his bootleg and wanted refund
Nigga I ain’t done, I’m always bringing 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 can rest in the peace if you cross the team
I’m the type to shoot your ass, and [?] flee
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 egos than [?]

[Hook: Proof]

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)

[Verse 3: Famous]

I said [?] this bitch down, and take his cash
And shoot more holes in his face than in a Jason mask
They whole crew is bitch and they [?] wood
He could be [?] 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
My slug’ll get y’all stomach shown like an ultrasound
Fuck what y’all niggas is on, my whole trick is the crews
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 Empire
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 ? Tech’s to your head
Wake you up with a toast like breakfast (in bed / and bread)
If you [?] and 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 [?] your dumbass more times than the sheet of bubble wrap