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lirik lagu bring it 2 me – proof

[verse 1: k!lla kaunn]
i hear the [?] in your tone, see the fakeness in your eyes
you ain’t never flipped a zone, let alone touched a pie
i’m real a hundred percent, the hustler’s in me
got o’s for a dollar, two for one fifty
i handle beef like a basketball
cross over the heat and slam dunk when your casket fall
i’ll show up at your front do’ with a fo’ fo’
and let fo’ go and leave you ass in a figure fo’
sn*tch you figaro it never pays to stunt
n*ggas searching for your head like a easter hunt
fake f*ggots who front get burnt ’til they ass learned
put 24 on your chest like jamal mashburn

[verse 2: proof]
i dismantle a mic, the animal tight with mechanical mic
i’ll punch the earth and make the planet lose life
granted the rights, my band is a trife, one handing the knife
o.j.? no, i’m a sick man in the night
and i’m planning to strike santa and wife
rob ’em a gift, leave ’em stranded with phife (dawg)
i’m hard but she’ll lay with the glock
how you want it homie? like biggie or ‘pac?
don’t scr*p with me, n*ggas seen what i did to your pops
most of y’all be acting b*tch like vivica fox, i k!ll bill
you can ask ’em how the steal feel, sh*t i’m real ill
and still trying to od off this chill pill
[chorus x2]
if you think this a diss then maybe this is, go handle you biz’ (iron fist!)
if you want it with me then bring it to me, so we can all see (iron fist!)

[verse 3: proof]
i’ll break your bones and flesh up, nothing to do with corona extra
i’m a known molester, [zones a special?]
leave p roof, we be truth
this i.f. tat’ alone’ll make your peeps alone (run!)
pull a gat out fatter than a beer gut
and put heat to the side of your face like ear m*ffs
clear up your face without oxyten
my glocks will send slugs that’ll stop your wind
let loose your oxygen then box with men
ready for ten rounds after a shot of gin
who is hot is him? (k!lla) who is hot as them? (p.g.)
no one, this is not pretend

[verse 4: k!lla kaunn]
from the land of [?] where n*ggas plot and dramas real
if you ain’t gotta steal, you will get stole
hot summer day, one of the whole, leaving you [slubbing?] in coke
with you mamma running in the road screaming “lord no!”
i don’t play boy, so don’t talk no sh*t
stick to rap, your fake gangsta ass don’t pop no clips
you more a b*tch than sisqó and you not that nice
and that little sh*t you talking make you lose your life
you know i don’t respect you, ’cause you very disrespectful
you hungry? here, take a techful
ride on that, n*gga while you ride on out
i stick d*ck to your b*tch then she ride your mouth, n*gga
[chorus x2]
if you think this a diss then maybe this is, go handle you biz’ (iron fist!)
if you want it with me then bring it to me, so we can all see (iron fist!)

[outro: dolo]
yo this is dolo n*gga, griswold and state
yo i’m tirried of you motherf*ckin’ friendly ass n*ggas in the club
ya’ know what i mean
grabbing n*ggas hands, wanting to smile all the godd*mn time
ain’t no more friends out here man, f*ck that man
see me in the club n*gga don’t even look my way
n*gga i’ll holler at you n*ggas, i’ll clap one of y’all
ya’ know what i mean

- proof

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