Whether Or Not (Original Version)

[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 fucking with us 'Cause.... We don't give a fuck [Verse 1: Kon Artis] Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh? Where the fuck 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 Fuck 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 fucked, 'cause (Yeah bitch, oh shit!) [Hook: Eminem] Whether you rap or you don't rap Duck 'fore you get rushed Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause.... We don't give a fuck [Verse 3: Eminem] We interrupt your little world of perfectness To bring you the shit to murder conservatives with To curse and diss, with verses so merciless These words can just fuck up your high worse than this {Police Sirens} I've killed for less, and dumped bodies in the motherfuckin' 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 fuck they're called, I just grab them 12-gauge dumps in a drug-fueled rage, fuck age, still goin' through my "fuck-you" stage I'm a 27-year-old eleven-year-old, I'mma never grow up, bitch, 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 fuck you lookin' at"? And invite the hook to scrap I gave my life to God, nigga, then I took it back Move it black, this fuckin' 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, niggas 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 fucking with us 'Cause.... We don't give a fuck [Verse 5: Swift] When they run into Swift they change directions My shit 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 Fuckin' with mine is like Farakhan chewin' up swine, on Christmas With a white trailer bitch on his arm, chillin' in Europe, havin dinner with a Uncle Tom I attack killin', fuckin' 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 niggas 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 bitch 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 Fuckin' with Hans will get you flipped like a baton, the deadliest bombs Wrap around niggas like Camabons, you know I ain't nothin' to play with Thinkin' you real like The Matrix, fuckin' with niggas drippin' off self-hatred I'm on some live shit, rappers be on some "Ready To Die" shit 'Till I put a ice pick, right through they eyelids, fuck heaters, I'll knock you out instead of shootin' I hit hard, break yo' fuckin' jaw like Resolution Give up the cash and coat, or get your little brother's classroom smoked And the substitue gagged and choked Nigga [Hook: Eminem] Whether you rap or you don't rap Duck 'fore you get rushed Get stuck fucking with us 'Cause.... We don't give a fuck [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 fuckin' 'em