We Live This Shit

We live this shit
I'm bout as crazy as Mike Tyson is
A fallen rasper from out the Raspers that bounce twice and live
Rollin blindfolded on the Eisenbridge
And doin' drivebys on *inaudible* slice this
Dwellin' from police, vice, and pigs
Split the Mellow bitch from out the vice with trigs
Tell Shyne that nigga ain't as nice as BIG
And I'ma jab at his [stinkin' eyes] like some spicy ribs

Well, it's your true gang man
This is your last chance to test yourself
You get dumped in a trashcan Bitch, hide your dope
I'll be lurkin' like secondhand smoke
I'm snatchin' throats as soon as I find that roll
You get drug like that nigga from Texas
Twelvе noon in the subdivision
In the back of a tilted Lexus
So you can get this message
Bitches wouldn't listen
See, I shitted on that cop when the nigga caught me pissin

Yo, yo, you came to ball with me
Nigga please work on yo six back
Started off singing, and personally, you should switch back
Or get hit with a brick in your back
Find your button jabbed
Cut up in the back of my Pontiac in a nap sack
Denaun, don't be bullshittin with y'all
I hang with felons, and all I gotta make is a call
They better withdrawal
Blast from a nigga with guns
Watch em' grabble crawl and and hide the body behind the drywalls

Yo, yo I'm a walkin timebomb
With a destructive radius
Packin guns with nuclear temp-bullets and stadiums
Streetsmart, runnin you over with shopping cards
Coppin darks, fill em up with ammonia and started off
I'ma say it, licken off more shots then diabetics
Even shootin the paramedic for being sympathetic
(I bring at you) Known for wreckless drivin and carcrashin
(Ey yo we mashin) Takin your momma's car without asking

DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTV DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit

Let me begin
What? Where? Why? or When?
Bizarre fuck around and blast you and your friends
See I'm not insane, in fact I'm kinda lyrical
If you live past twelve, it'll be a miracle
Niggas wanna diss me in they fuckin whack rhymes
We spy back, your mother's dead by lunchtime
A-ask the last rapper who tried to diss me
You won't be able to cause his fuckin life is history
Better bring your army if you plan on getting me
They taking shit off [a clue like teeth a-netti]

Eh yo, I'm known for driving drunk bopping my head with a drive-mile
Hittin pedestrians, fuckin hoes till they pass out
My idea of a romantic evening is day rape
I'm [caged in], on the run for police
Hoppin' off of your momma's fire-escape
Ten stories high
Land on a limo
Kill the chauffer then skirt off bumpin' my new demo
My life's on lease
Get a piece of your grandniece and tell her my real name's Reece

I throw a forty on the governor's grass
Cover yo ass you trap
Quick to get out of line cause I be drunk ridin raps
And no punks fighting back
I get high in crack-cranium
You see a nigga up in Singapore painting him
Throwin grenades inside of stadiums
Smack yo lady and then advise
You niggas aching we brigading em
You can call the national guards bitch I'm payin em
Blast yo squad then I'ma get the fuck away from em
I ain't got shit to say to them but get the dick
Quick to fuck police officer's wives with nightsticks, motherfucker

DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit
DIRTY DOZEN, we live this shit

Eh yo, I slit throats
Walk in a diner and order French toast
Take a flight to Littleton (Bitch gimme back my trenchcoat)
I strike back, don't even ask for this mic back
You better off asking Debal for your bike back
You make the era of inviting niggas who like fighting niggas
Like Mike Tyson, the murderous trife titan
I make a statement, rippin' my truck up on your pavement
Looking for something hard enough to hit you in your face with

And then I grab you by your neck
And doin' my bullet loose
Trapped in a soundproof and rapped in bulletproof
Holding B-80s to naked twin babies
Dirty Dozen the reason y'all don't fuck with Slim Shady
Receive more hits than a baseball stadium
Run up on the Temptation and waste all eight of em (every last one)
We can battle with your command
Snatch the spine out your back a
And make you fold like a bad [Bolka] hair

All you big niggas
I like that knowledge flow
I'm too old to be rastlin
And fuckin up my clothes
Now you all alone on the ground by yourself
While your boy yells (Hey somebody, get some help!)
Fuck a truce, ain't no apologies
I shoot so much I got funeral homes following me