D12 - Whether or Not lyrics

[Hook: Eminem] Whether you rap or you don't rap Duck 'fore you get rushed Get stuck f**ing with us Cause.... We don't give a f** [Verse 1: Kon Artis] Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh? Where the f** you think he started at holmes, huh? Skip the small talk, talking is a risk you take Kick yo' face 'till yo' head go through this window and break Break to the 1-9, Denaun cause the gun-line And collect bank from every weed spot like I'm one time I'm ain't the remorseful type, I'll drink and still drive prone to hit anything at any given night f** leaving my roots, I'm still in cahoots with nincompoops who shoot out like troops in Beirut Pull up in a red hearse, with Fred Durst dressed like a nurse With a [?] [Verse 2: Bizarre] On my Harley Davidson, I ride down Main Street I speed with my dad's name on my a** cheek Gimme your ones and get robbed with a broken gun Got you doing more dances than Puffy's son All you groupies that wanna get took You gotta be 12 years old with a coloring book And anyone else who wanna get f**ed, cause (Yeah b**h, oh sh**!) [Hook] [Verse 3: Eminem] We interrupt your little world of perfectness To bring you the sh** to murder conservatives with To curse and diss, with verses so merciless These words can just f** up your high worse than this {Police Sirens} I've k**ed for less, and dumped bodies in the motherf**in' wilderness I'm a wildebeest, I've concealed a piece even after I was busted by Warren Police You think just because I got caught by these cops once I'm not gonna carry shotguns to blow your wigs back like hamburgers without any top buns So many damn murders I can't even count one Two black guns, I don't know maybe they're Magnums I don't know what the f** they're called, I just grabbed 'em 12-gauge dumped in a drug-fueled rage, f** age, I'm still goin' through my "f**-you" stage I'm a 27-year-old eleven-year-old, I'mma never grow up, b**h, I ain't gon' never get old I'll be sitting here with a cane and a beard Still insane and as weird as the day I came in here, brain in my rear, yeah So 'till I'm wrinkled as Robert Van Winkle, I'mma drop a damn single every goddamn week, people It's D12, June 19th, so do like me, and go buy three, with no ID Kids [Verse 4: Proof] Now why you wanna play a game with me, dangerously The outcome's hot, once splittin' your brain in three Proof with crooked raps, always ask them "What the f** you lookin' at"? And invite the hook to scrap I gave my life to God, n***a, then I took it back Took it black, this f**in' gat, will leave your cookie cracked Detroit's, derelict, arrogant, terrorist, straight on you aerospit Spit at people various people, to leave you bloody 'till your buried with Every hit was serious, n***as wanna know how murderous The Dirty Harry is When I'm on your front porch with guns about to bust Cause.. [Hook] [Verse 5: Swift] When they run into Swift they change directions My sh** so tight when hoes hear it they catch a yeast infection You need protection, you gon' fear it I snatch away yo' DNA from existence, with no spirit Give up the carats or see the nine f**in' with mine is like Farakhan chewin' up swine, on Christmas With a white trailer b**h on his arm, chillin' in Europe, havin dinner with a Uncle Tom I attack k**in', f**in' hoes like Matt Dillon Stackin' obituaries higher than Michael Jackson's ceiling I leaves nobody livin', I got Satan shiverin' Hate what I'm deliverin', you know the best then send 'em in, crack you with a fifth of gin You got your men, but they all wearin' skirts like them n***as from Scotland, you hoes are not grim Don't make me stop in with a mag, and blow yo feet up out yo Top Ten's [Verse 6: Kuniva] I'm the one they call in to torture ya Smackin' your b**h and forcin' her in the back seat of an old Corcia Kuniva's the silent type, but under the silence is a violent life, usually followed by sirens and lights Get your throat cut by this tyrant's knife, from high as a kite And my get-a-way driver's drivin' right f**in' with Hans will get you flipped like a baton, the deadliest bombs Wrap around n***as like Camabons, you know I ain't nothin' to play with Thinkin' you real like The Matrix, f**in' with n***as drippin' off self-hatred I'm on some live sh**, rappers be on some "Ready To Die" sh** 'Till I put a ice pick, right through they eyelids, f** heaters, I'll knock you out instead of shootin' I hit hard, break yo' f**in' jaw like Resolution Give up the cash and coat, or get your little brother's cla**room smoked And the substitue gaged and choked n***a.. [Hook] [Outro] D12, June 19th.. Do shrooms like me Get ready for it.. Trouble soon, baby.. You know it.. Tell your mama and your sister too.. Cause we f**in' 'em