Oil Can Harry

[Intro: Proof & DJ Salam Wreck]
(Salam Wreck!)
(Derty Harry is dead)
I'm here to announce that Derty Harry is dead (Derty Harry is dead)
Now we witness the birth of the son (Derty Harry is dead)
Oil Can Harry, the Boss (Derty Harry is dead)
Hah hah hah (Wreck!) (Derty Harry is dead)

[Verse 1: Proof & Eminem]
My life is trapped in these lines, that’s why I’m packin' these nines
I gotta rap, I ain’t dyin', that’s in the back of my mind
Got a strap made of iron, can’t relax on this grind
Bendin' over backwards for these slackers 'til I’m snappin' my spine
Natural high, gotta focus on these bogus poachers
Lookin' over my shoulder, Proof get it poppin' like soda, hold up
We nothin' but soldiers! Slow up! This gun is loaded! Roll up!
They beef and we leavin' ‘em coked up!
If Em say it, I spray it; if he will it, I kill it
We Kilpatrick and Ilitch of Detroit, y'all can feel it
Real as this gun on my waistline, at war we don’t waste time
Ja, man he can’t take a punch and 50 can take nine (Brrrah!)
We got Schoolcraft here at the 7, 8, and Dexter
I’m up in Hollis spendin’ dollars, ain’t feelin' no pressure
Yes sir, your texture is bitch, betcha you flinch
When Proof shoot up that coup and wet your whole clique
Fuck it, who's next on this shit? This is breathless to pits
When you brothers is stiff as slugs exit ya wig
You'll be next to B.I.G., 'Pac, it's destiny kid
Before ya lid get popped, stop testin' me, bitch! (What!)

[Chorus: Proof]
Homie, you think you tough? (What?) Think we won't fuck you up? (Punk!)
Even the innocent get pistol-whipped by this pistol grip (Punk!)
Talkin' shit, you drunk? (What?) Think I won't fuck you up? (Punk!)
We both deep, I ain't scared and I don't give a fuck (Jump!)

[Verse 2: Proof]
I ain't for them games, homie don't even try
We ain't bowin' down to no one, we gon' start a riot (yeah)
Heart of fire, soul of ice, roll the dice, see what you get
No advice all my life, I ain't leavin' this bitch
I'm a man, I'm holdin' my ground and unloadin' these rounds
At any clown approachin' my crown (Brrrah!)
I'ma keep it grimey, nothin' but killas seen behind me
I'ma bully fully 'cuz your team is tiny
If I was to crush 'em, God can’t save you; Bibles is nothin'
This rifle I'm clutchin' to leave you stifled on crutches (Hah!)
I fight for my cousins that ain't even related
Even I'll state it now from life I leave you bleedin' and faded
Hatin' made in my nature, I'm clappin' and clackin' your captain
Smackin' faggots and act as a rapper with platinum status
Ya lips flappin', I'm slappin' 'em backwards, half of these rappers' status just shatters
Just knowin' Proof and the Mathers has gathered an army
It's Shady bandanas, after us the game is won
Who in the matters get plain-fashioned brain damage
The name that some forgot, D12
It ain't hard to feel, guard ya grill, it's real!

[Chorus: Proof]
Homie, you think you tough? (What?) Think we won't fuck you up? (Punk!)
Even the innocent get pistol-whipped by this pistol grip (Punk!)
Talkin' shit, you drunk? (What?) Think I won't fuck you up? (Punk!)
We both deep, I ain't scared and I don't give a fuck (Jump!)

[Outro: DJ Salam Wreck]
Yeah, Big Proof!
Grown Man Sh!t!
Shoutout to Mark Hicks, Jimmy Neutron
Mario, SkinnyBoysGraphix
You know what I'm sayin'?
1st Born, everybody up at Iron Fist
DJ Salam Wreck, let's go!