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