"Proof And Eli" lyrics
Just wanna let y'all know
That if it wasn't for Big Proof
There would be no D12
Probably wouldn't be a Shady Records or none of that shit
So on three, let's say "Big Proof" on three, aight?
One, two, three
(Big Proof)
One, two, three
(Big Proof)
Intertwining who's undermindin' my rhymin'
Grindin' and findin' better flows after rewindin'
Sluts ass out, bone lass out
Make her pass out, dash out her dad's house
Smash out on crash dummies, blingin' before cash money
Hood rats comin' with fat tummies
I sit back 'cause that's funny
The new kid with blueprints to your ruins
Did a few bids with two chicks that blew dicks
Classy like old cars, survived the world wars
With rose garden, cold-hearted, Mozart
The backstreet Apache
Voice been scratchy
Nobody can exactly match me in a rap meet
Street tech pirate that set fire to jet flyers
Fuck the necktie
I whip wackers and eggers fire
Not an ideal to die ill with my will
Why kill those that lie still with dry skill?
Fuck your colors, I'm hatin' on your dress code
Proof spit fire like Satan with a chest cold
Park at your gat, put fear in your mag
Whisper, "I love your mom," then yell, "Fuck you and your dad!"
Nah, they got steam to blow off
And when they grow up, we got tattoos to show off
Blow out your back with the four
And give my life script to your clique and tell 'em act like they know
Call me "Your Highness", "Eli Ble$$ed"
I come from a legend, now they yellin', "He got next"
Throw whatever at us, best believe we not stressed
I just finesse, kicked her out as soon as she got dressed
Eli, so every track gets spit on proper
P-I-M-P, yes, Proof is my poppa
No cap, all facts, this year is on lock
I know he watchin', so the blessings don't stop
Elija, Elija, it's your father
That if it wasn't for Big Proof
There would be no D12
Probably wouldn't be a Shady Records or none of that shit
So on three, let's say "Big Proof" on three, aight?
One, two, three
(Big Proof)
One, two, three
(Big Proof)
Intertwining who's undermindin' my rhymin'
Grindin' and findin' better flows after rewindin'
Sluts ass out, bone lass out
Make her pass out, dash out her dad's house
Smash out on crash dummies, blingin' before cash money
Hood rats comin' with fat tummies
I sit back 'cause that's funny
The new kid with blueprints to your ruins
Did a few bids with two chicks that blew dicks
Classy like old cars, survived the world wars
With rose garden, cold-hearted, Mozart
The backstreet Apache
Voice been scratchy
Nobody can exactly match me in a rap meet
Street tech pirate that set fire to jet flyers
Fuck the necktie
I whip wackers and eggers fire
Not an ideal to die ill with my will
Why kill those that lie still with dry skill?
Fuck your colors, I'm hatin' on your dress code
Proof spit fire like Satan with a chest cold
Park at your gat, put fear in your mag
Whisper, "I love your mom," then yell, "Fuck you and your dad!"
Nah, they got steam to blow off
And when they grow up, we got tattoos to show off
Blow out your back with the four
And give my life script to your clique and tell 'em act like they know
Call me "Your Highness", "Eli Ble$$ed"
I come from a legend, now they yellin', "He got next"
Throw whatever at us, best believe we not stressed
I just finesse, kicked her out as soon as she got dressed
Eli, so every track gets spit on proper
P-I-M-P, yes, Proof is my poppa
No cap, all facts, this year is on lock
I know he watchin', so the blessings don't stop
Elija, Elija, it's your father
