Whether or Not (Freestyle) lyrics
by D12
[Hook: Eminem]
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck f*cking with us
'Cause....
We don't give a f*ck
[Verse 1: Kon Artis]
Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh?
Where the f*ck 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*ck 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 coach purse screaming his throat hurts
[Verse 2: Bizarre]
On my Harley Davidson, I ride down Main Street
I speed with my dad's name on my ass 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*cked, 'cause
(Yeah b*tch, oh sh*t!)
[Hook: Eminem]
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck f*cking with us
'Cause....
We don't give a f*ck
[Verse 3: Eminem]
We interrupt your little world of perfectness
To bring you the sh*t to murder conservatives with
To curse and diss, with verses so merciless
These words can just f*ck up your high worse than this
{Police Sirens}
I've killed for less, and dumped bodies in the motherf*ckin' wilderness
I'm a wildebeest, and 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*ck they're called, I just grab them
12-gauge dumps in a drug-fueled rage, f*ck age, still goin' through my "f*ck-you" stage
I'm a 27-year-old eleven-year-old, I'mma never grow up, b*tch, I ain't gon' ever 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 until 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 split your brain in three
Proof with crooked raps, always ask them "What the f*ck you lookin' at"?
And invite the hook to scrap
I gave my life to God, n*gga, then I took it back
Move it black, this f*ckin' gat'll leave your cookie cracked
Detroit's derelict arrogant terrorist, straight on you aerospit
Spit at various people to leave you with a body to get buried with
Every hit was serious, n*ggas wanna know how murderous the Dirty Harry is
When I'm on your front porch with guns about to bust
'Cause
[Hook: Eminem]
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck f*cking with us
'Cause....
We don't give a f*ck
[Verse 5: Swift]
When they run into Swift they change directions
My sh*t 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*ckin' with mine is like Farakhan chewin' up swine, on Christmas
With a white trailer b*tch on his arm, chillin' in Europe, havin dinner with a Uncle Tom
I attack killin', f*ckin' 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*ggas from Scotland, you hoes are not grim
Don't make me stop in with a mag, and blow yo feet up out yo Top Tens
[Verse 6: Kuniva]
I'm the one they call in to torture ya
Smackin' your b*tch 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*ckin' with Hans will get you flipped like a baton, the deadliest bombs
Wrap around n*ggas like Camabons, you know I ain't nothin' to play with
Thinkin' you real like The Matrix, f*ckin' with n*ggas drippin' off self-hatred
I'm on some live sh*t, rappers be on some "Ready To Die" sh*t
'Till I put a ice pick, right through they eyelids, f*ck heaters, I'll knock you out instead of shootin'
I hit hard, break yo' f*ckin' jaw like Resolution
Give up the cash and coat, or get your little brother's classroom smoked
And the substitue gagged and choked
n*gga
[Hook: Eminem]
Whether you rap or you don't rap
Duck 'fore you get rushed
Get stuck f*cking with us
'Cause....
We don't give a f*ck
[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*ckin' 'em