D-12 - Lyrics

D-12 World - Album

40oz (pour Your 40 Out)

What! What! ...........

[Intro: Kuniva]

Yeah nigga!

D12 up in this movafuc*in

you know how it gets

We wilin' in the club

Everybody get crunk

Detroit too nigga

So wile the fuc* out!

[Chorus:]

Pour your 40 out (Guzzle It) [ x 8 ]

Bitch!!!

[Bizzare]

We fuc*ed up

let us in the club

One of y'all niggas gon' catch a slug

I'm so drunk i could hurl for a month

Any nigga pop's, go to the trunk

D12 start shit, nigga come get us

7 Mile Runyan, wild niggas wit us

cause all my niggas is talkin' that shit

Ain't got no problem, with smackin no bitch

I'll have my wife, cut your throat

Blunts, gans , that's all we smoke

Wile the fuc* out, stab you with a knife

It's D12 nigga, we ready to fuc*in' fight

[Repeat Chorus]

[Eminem]

Who tryin' to be the first one to catch this blade in their throat

You know the po-po don't let me hold them toasters no mo'

I just clapped three people, you gon' be number four

If you don't back the fuc* up, and get the fuc* up off the flo'

My crew is takin over as soon as we hit the do'

You hit the door then we comin' in and you goin' home

Security that can't even stop us because they know

Runyan Avenue soldiers hold it down wherever we go

Suckin on our 40's and holdin up .44's

We come with toasters like we just opened saving's and loans

And we don't need your brew tonight homie we brought our own

So grab whatever you sippin on and let's get it on!!!!

[Repeat Chorus]

[Kuniva]

We deep as a muvafuc*er, we 'bout to get it crunk

you just another punk in the club about to get jumped

I settle my vendettas with AK's, berettas

We dont supposed to be in here with our weapons but still they let us

Switchblade, brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckle

Broken beer bottles, when we walk in you can smell trouble

Elbows flying, bitches crying, niggas bleeding, you retreating

Run into your car and skatin off free g-ing

We make examples out of you haters runnin' your mouth

You the reason why your peoples is pourin their 40's out

Dirty Dozen wiling, beat niggas bloody

And you gon' have to pour out a keg for all your homies

[Repeat Chorus]

[Proof]

I was raised by drunks, so I became a drunk

80 Proof on this vodka, that's the name I want

I'm in the club to beef, you gotta murder me then

Only talk to a bitch with burgundy hair

Or the aisle in the back, bump a seven deuce

See that top on that 40, you know it's comin' loose

See me on the Ave. daily, we runnin' this shit

If your chick get loud, I g-money that bitch

Packin mags and clips, I'll smash your clique

Because of Proof they put the "G" in the alphabet

Smoking weed, drinking henny, remy, in that Jimmy

Don't worry if we run out the corner store got plenty

[Repeat Chorus]

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