100 Proof Freestyle (Bless The Booth)

[Intro: Bizarre] D12 DJ Booth Hunnid Proof Is this water? Is this liquor? Might be Mali water, who knows Ah shit Let me start off warming up a little bit Fuck it You wanna be rapping right now? Yeah [Verse 1: Bizarre] I smoke eighty blunts a day I fuck bitches hardly gay That's what they hardly say I do it the Marley way Bizarre Kid or some other shit I'll smack your mother bitch Off the wall freestyle I don't smoke black at miles I pop pills and fuck your mother And smack the shit out your brother Let me stop all this shit I'ma pass the mic to the other [?] in the clique While your bitch suck my dick And I can sniff a half a brick I can take a couple pills Y'all rap [?] better chill I smack [?] in they mouth That's what I'm all about D12 man, I'ma pass the mic to Kuniva [Verse 2: Kuniva] Yeah, yeah, uh Midwest to thе next life Your girl ain't the samе I upgraded her sex life Gun, cash, and murder No particular order That Detroit state of mind got me pimpin' your daughter Yeah I represent the crime from the east Middle finger the hoes While I rhyme over beats Your pen game is pussy You a joke I'm not the one to provoke Give up the ecstasy and coke Before you end up smoked And if you callin' me a bitch Behind my back is you a bigger bitch Ain't nothin' like a broke [?] Playin' [?] rich Since I was six years old, became militant I do bad things, plus I smoke with cigarettes That shit learn ya Packs a burner In the corner Can't you come out of Max and Irma Gotta be the most terrible Heathen breathin' I'm schemin' upon a way To make some Jesus even My bars alone That shatter your bones And I'm prone Trick or don't Catch the ride It's like [?] for prom You ain't playin' for hoes My [?], you're payin' for hoes Eat the cat Give us hit strokes And ready You be the- I guess And fuck her and leave her While you beat your meat Like Rocky up in the freezer I'll make you a believer The meat cleaver a heater Lay your body under a dam and leave it to beaver Give a kick to the range You'll get dropped Kicked for sweep Found in the blood Head butted Found in the hood Sleep Irrational Poppin' a couple papsos Couplin' up in with all of your ass Beat with some ass hoes Immaculate rapper Back slappin' [?] Dent in they mouth That's what I'm about That's how I do it Goin' off that blue one Started freestylin' off the top Because I'm kinda doin' shit I mock [?] up Blood all over the floor Stab you in the face And didn't do the same to your whore I was born the rebel That's how I do it in this bitch Dirty Dozen doin' And we killin' in this bitch Swifty's in the back And he's ready to get lit That's how we rollin' Fuck you and your bitch Word Detroit style That's how we rollin' See me in the streets You met a [?] swollen Get your jaw beat up Get your mom smacked That's how I do it on the set Kuniva [Verse 3: Swifty McVay] Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it Now me and D-Tweezy spittin' bars Don't get us wrong, we unseen like tenant cars We get the guns, bullets, lives, and [?]' time So be responsible Finish him off at the hospital Then walk up outta there Prepatin' the monitors We too smart to be gettin' caught in jail Scrapin' the wall Makin' calendars, hidin' vanities Open up a can of ass whoopin' for challenges And leavin' them with paralysis Status is to get rid of static They don't want it, fragile bastards Just as weak as a sheet of fabric softener They impostors frontin' Nostrils runnin' from knockin' a woman unconscious I ain't runnin' from the cops I'm in apartments bluntin' I'm laughin' at bastards They in diapers wearin' harps Up under they cuffs I'm comin' with the sharpest weapon Pop the lock And you permanently narcoleptic They get robbed naked They start sweatin' When they dogs get questionin' Nauseous, throwin' up on they sergeants vest God accept them I'm sendin' them to you like a FedEx Express When the mobsters catch 'em I find chicks to hit it and quit And I'ma ditch 'em You find a bitch Just to kick it like Dave Beckham I'm wilder than Led Zeppelin [?] don't come close Like strep throat with severe symptoms While I'm here rippin' that ass faster Than a bad contract Ask where your mom's at, I ain't the pass up on that When beefin' I follow 'em Like a chaperone tag, ha And pourin' acid on his back This is a track Where you can murder out the brew You wanna rap? There's somethin' You can slit a rapper's throat To vocal behind them Pro Tools But won't do shit Snipe quick Toss the metal like horseshoes [?] that's what we do D12 up in this bitch The booth, yes sir