Lirik Lagu Ali (feat. MC Breed) - Proof
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[MC Breed]I'm in it witch'all (okay)Hit big cash, I'll spend it witch'allWin at the casino bitch, I'm spendin it all (hey)Leave in my Spreewells spinnin for y'allI'm in it for y'all, fact is (whattup)My contents have character, plays the backgroundwhile I'm listenin to amateurs with no stamina (uh-uhh)Compared to my flowYou're more or less recycled, career's on idleKeep it comin thoughIf there's anyone or anybody that's potent enough, I wanna knowGorilla, and I'm iller, than a fifth ofHennessy and Belve', a big bagger killerPopcorn popper, won't stop 'til I cop e-noughtrees to get the whole world fucked upI'm out of M-I, so when I say "Whatupdoe"Y'all niggaz put it on the flow
[Chorus One: MC Breed]Hey where you gettin it from, I want.. {one too}Oh you got some of those, I got.. {one too}You got a fine-ass broad, I got.. {one too}And I'm drivin a Benz that get..Oh you got one rolled, I got.. {one too}And a fat bank roll, I got.. {one too}You got a house on the hills, I got.. {one too}And I'm drivin a Benz that get..
[MC Breed]Uhh, nothin but that Cuervo Gold and cold CoronasPlug with them esse's that live in ArizonaYeah, put it in your bubble nigga, know I'm on yaShake them haters off as soon as they get on yaPopcorn, all through my perfectoAll I do is chief, it's hard for me to let go
[Proof]Tecs blow like Del Rio - from the landof Air Force Ones, Detroit scum blow (cuatro cincos!)If you want it, IF got it, the gettin is goodThe best thing movin like a brick in the hoodI'm wishin you would stumble out the clubFuck your slack (NIGGA) we can rumble out in floodsWe fuck by choice but fight when we canI'm good with the mic, but I'm nice with my handsI ain't for bangin, unless the ass hanginMy last name ain't Kelly, but give me brain bitch, c'mon
[Chorus Two: Proof]The name of my crew is D.. {one-two}You got some pills in your pocket, I want.. {one too}You got a knock baby boy, I got.. {one too}And I'm ballin on y'all like this is..You got a Tab in your hand, I got.. {one too}You got a gun on your waist, I got.. {one too}You got a Roley on your wrist, I want.. {one too}And I'm pullin my heat to get..
[Proof]This is high octane that bang within block rangeNothin but cold blood flow in my hot veinsMy shot aim with the pistol ain't the issueGot the title, "Battle Disciple" came to diss youLet's get to The Source with mics all I need blackCause 5 mics together, only makes feedbackI'm what every rapper +dread+ like beeswaxSnatch a rapper out his Timbs like stems on weed sacks(He's back!) Bitch, I never leftEvery step has been Proof to the fact that I'm evidencethat Detriot co-co locosThe flame slow flow where the snow blow and they roll 'droMy tendencies to spit, end MC's real quickPass they Hennessy sips, enemies get rippedThe penalty in vially, your memory dissolveThe energy is wild, mentally I'm foulThe entity now, howls instead of growlAlready raw, cookin lookin for shook ones to set 'em downDon't worry about my record sales(I know this ain't the same Proof that's in D12!)Damn skippy, my hands swiftly grab a micAny man gifted stand with it, it's battle nightSoon as I get in the booth, spittin the truthThis ain't for the Billboards, this is strictly for you
[Chorus One]
[Chorus One: MC Breed]Hey where you gettin it from, I want.. {one too}Oh you got some of those, I got.. {one too}You got a fine-ass broad, I got.. {one too}And I'm drivin a Benz that get..Oh you got one rolled, I got.. {one too}And a fat bank roll, I got.. {one too}You got a house on the hills, I got.. {one too}And I'm drivin a Benz that get..
[MC Breed]Uhh, nothin but that Cuervo Gold and cold CoronasPlug with them esse's that live in ArizonaYeah, put it in your bubble nigga, know I'm on yaShake them haters off as soon as they get on yaPopcorn, all through my perfectoAll I do is chief, it's hard for me to let go
[Proof]Tecs blow like Del Rio - from the landof Air Force Ones, Detroit scum blow (cuatro cincos!)If you want it, IF got it, the gettin is goodThe best thing movin like a brick in the hoodI'm wishin you would stumble out the clubFuck your slack (NIGGA) we can rumble out in floodsWe fuck by choice but fight when we canI'm good with the mic, but I'm nice with my handsI ain't for bangin, unless the ass hanginMy last name ain't Kelly, but give me brain bitch, c'mon
[Chorus Two: Proof]The name of my crew is D.. {one-two}You got some pills in your pocket, I want.. {one too}You got a knock baby boy, I got.. {one too}And I'm ballin on y'all like this is..You got a Tab in your hand, I got.. {one too}You got a gun on your waist, I got.. {one too}You got a Roley on your wrist, I want.. {one too}And I'm pullin my heat to get..
[Proof]This is high octane that bang within block rangeNothin but cold blood flow in my hot veinsMy shot aim with the pistol ain't the issueGot the title, "Battle Disciple" came to diss youLet's get to The Source with mics all I need blackCause 5 mics together, only makes feedbackI'm what every rapper +dread+ like beeswaxSnatch a rapper out his Timbs like stems on weed sacks(He's back!) Bitch, I never leftEvery step has been Proof to the fact that I'm evidencethat Detriot co-co locosThe flame slow flow where the snow blow and they roll 'droMy tendencies to spit, end MC's real quickPass they Hennessy sips, enemies get rippedThe penalty in vially, your memory dissolveThe energy is wild, mentally I'm foulThe entity now, howls instead of growlAlready raw, cookin lookin for shook ones to set 'em downDon't worry about my record sales(I know this ain't the same Proof that's in D12!)Damn skippy, my hands swiftly grab a micAny man gifted stand with it, it's battle nightSoon as I get in the booth, spittin the truthThis ain't for the Billboards, this is strictly for you
[Chorus One]
