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Proof

We Ain't Scared

 

We Ain't Scared


[Intro:]
Dirty Harry is dead [x4]
I'm here to announce that Dirty Harry is dead
Now witness the life of his son, or Oil Can Harry, The Boss

[Proof:]
My life is trapped in these lines, that's why I'm packing these nines
I gotta rap I ain't dying, that's in the back on my mind
Got a strap made of iron, can't relax on this grind
Bending over backwards for these slackers til I'm snapping my spine
Naturally, I gotta focus
On these bogus poachers, looking over my shoulder, Proof get it popping like soda
Hold up
[Eminem:] (We nothing but soldiers)
Slow up
[Eminem:] (This gun is loaded)
Roll up
[Eninem:] (They beef and we leaving 'em coked up)
If Em say it I spray it, if he willing I kill it
We kill packs to get iller Detroit, y'all can feel it
Got this gun on my wasteline, in war we don't waste time
Ja, man he can't take a punch and 50 can take nine
We got School Craft here at the 7, 8, and text her
I'm up in Holly, spending dollas, ain't feeling no pressure
Yes sir, your texture is bitch, bet'cha ya flinch
When Proof shoot up they coup, and wet your whole clique
Fuck it who's next on this shit, this is prefrence to bitch
When you preface to stiffen slugs enter your wig
You'll be next to BIG, Pac is destiny kid
Before ya lead get popped, stop testing me bitch

[Chorus:]
Homie you think you tough (what)
Think we won't fuck you up (punk)
Even the innocent get pistol-whipped by this pistol grip (punk)
Talking shit you drunk (what)
Think I won't fuck you up (punk)
We both deep, I ain't scared and I don't give a fuck (jump)

[Proof:]
I ain't feel no games, homie don't even try
We ain't bowing down to no one we gon' start a riot (yeah)
Heart of fire, soul of ice, roll the dice, see what you get
No advice, all my life I ain't leaving in this bitch
I'm a man, more I'm holding my ground
To loading these rounds, at any call approaching my ground (blah)
I'm a kid but grimey, nothing but killas
And behind me, I'm a bully fully cuz your team is tiny
If I was to crush 'em, got to say these Bibles are nothing
This rifle on clutches to leave you stifled on crutches
I fight for my cousins that ain't even related
Even I stated, not from life I leave you bleeding and faded
Hating made in my nature, I'm clapping and clacking your captain
Smacking faggots and act as a rapper with platinum status, ya living
flapping 'em slapping 'em backwards
After these rappers' status
To shadders, knowing Proof and that Mathers has gathered an army
It's Shady bandatas
After rest the game is won, who in the matters get blamed fast with brain damage
The name that some forgot, D12, it ain't hard to feel, guard ya grill, it's REAL!

[Chorus]

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