[Intro: Proof]
*Chants: HELL YEAH*
Ayo, this big Proof
1 sixth of D12, one half of Promatic
All I.F. to death
I heard you nigga, I heard you
My teeth is big like a truck
Real nigga, I do roll deep nigga 'cause I'm a boss bitch
See me out on them streets ya hear me?
You ain't even making my heart hurt nigga
But I'll make your heart hurt
Yo Killa Kaunn where the fuck you at nigga?
[Verse 1: Killa Kaunn]
I'm sick of these punk pussy rappers yapping and flexed
Put the Tech to the back of your neck and let it stretch
Royce ain't the king of shit, and I'ma delete D-Elite
How you gangsta but you never in the streets?
I'll put you in a coma when you rollin' up Magoda
2 shots at y'all Range Rover, the game over
Where the fuck is the truth when I'm up in the booth
Purple Gang, Killa Kaunn, bitch I'm ridin' for Proof
My guns will burn like diseased raw sex, got yo ass scared of crowds, That's why you the next Malcolm X
Tre Little gon' get dropped like Cha Cha's whole label,
And we only see your videos on Comcast Cable
Local fuckers, wishing you was born in Queens
Donell Jones lookin' nigga, born to sing
What is y'all, a crew of has-been thugs?
Wait, you can't be a has-been when your ass never was
Royce you tarred and feathered up, stop fuckin' with us fo' we blow your truck we fuckin' you up
Cha Cha screamin', "Where's the love for me?"
That’s what happen when your ass a whore in the industry,,
And my voice get lost, and still get you a sale
Bust you bitch ass niggas do it via E-Mail
This is Killa Kaunn, top gun in this joint
Dude, my guns is blazing and they aimin' at Royce
I'm the number one street nigga
I got deadly aim, and you faggots won't remain, bullet to your brain
If you broke motherfuckers had a boss, I'll target that motherfucker, you already lost
Fuck Kino, he mad cause I won the Spitfest, that's a testament to the flow cause I spit best
Purple Gang BITCH!
[Hook: Proof]
Hey Detroit is you with me y'all? (HELL YEAH)
Is Royce from Detroit? (NO)
Straight off 7 Mile? (HELL NO)
Ain't he the king of the D? (NO)
Do y'all love Royce? (HELL NO)
[Verse 2: Ty Farris]
This nigga's sick, but i'mma cure his cold
Throw a tissue on a 40. Cal and blow his nose
You rock Rhinestones, you can't afford Diamonds
You the king of what city? stop lying (STOP LYING)
Got shells flying, out the Tommy Gun
Niggas bought his bootleg and wanted a refund
Nigga I ain't done, I always bring the drama
You wanna blow up, hugging a suicide bomber
Nigga I'll pop you if I see you on the streets
But I won't get a chance, you don't live in the D
You'll be resting in the peace if you cross the team
I'm the type to shoot your ass, and scream out "FREEZE!"
Nigga please, you don't bust slugs
You a internet gangsta, a E-mail thug
Never unloved, nigga, it's gonna be blood puddles
You're surrounded with more Eagles than McNabb in a huddle
[Hook: Proof]
(HELL YEAH!)
Y'all niggas scared of war? (NO)
Bow down to the king? (HELL NO)
Shouldn't I let this slide? (NO)
Y'all gonna let him outside? (HELL NO)
[Verse 3: Famous]
I said beat this bitch down, and take his cash
And shoot more holes in his face than a Jason mask
They whole crew is bitch and they captain his wood
He could get his card revoked but he not from the hood
Nigga this is Famous, East side reppin
We catch bodies like Firefighters on 9/11
So that chick better duck when they're tossed around
A slug'll have his stomach showin like an ultrasound
Fuck is y'all niggas is on, my whole clique is the crew
And Gay Little, we got AK's bigger than you (Bitch)
And you better duck if one fire
I'll have you slumped at home with a vest on like the umpire
Don't feel you a thug and strongarm
Cause all a wheelchair's gonna give you is strong arms
Yeah, you little niggas, we got the streets locked
And the only soldiers y'all ran with is a pair of Reeboks
Like it or not I'm the hottest around
40. Cal will blow the Rhinestones up outta your crown
Laying down, you sleeping with Tech's to your head
Wake you up with a toast like breakfast in bed
If you high and on P then you facing the streets
That's a whole lotta drama so watch your mouth
Cause if we drop by once and miss you, we gon' double back
And pop your dumbass more times than the sheet of bubble wrap
[Hook: Proof]
Do they got street credit ? (NO)
Ain't they built for war ? (HELL NO)
Is Detroit past 8 Mile ? (NO)
Does a real nigga lie ? (HELL NO)
[Outro: Proof]
Ayo, it's over, I'm officially announcing, it's over
Ain't no beef out here, ain't no competition, it's grown ass men to boys, When it come to the street shit, ya heard me
So y’all motherfuckers keep it in the mic booth
Don’t step out on the pavement, we'll leave it right there, you hear me, Purple Gang! Killa Kaunn! Famous! Flame! First Born! J-Hill! Kuniva! Real niggas, nigga! They spit lava saliva. Godfather. I.F. 2 Death, Kaiser Sozet, We do what we ‘sposed to, picture me on the poster, it’s over
Beef Is Ova was written by Proof & Killa Kaunn & Ty Farris & Famous (Detroit).