d12 - whether or not (original version) كلمات الأغنية
[intro]
no one’s ready to deal with us
[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 pr_ne to hit anything at any given night
f_ck leaving my roots, i’m still in cahoots with nincomp__ps who shoot out like troops in beirut
pull up in a red he_rs_ 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 k!lled 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 d_mn 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 d_mn single every godd_mn 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 scr_p
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 _ swifty mcvay]
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 sn_tch 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 k!llin’, f_ckin’ hoes like matt dillon
stackin’ obituaries higher than michael jackson’s ceiling
i leaves n0body 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
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