Outro Lyrics - Return Of The Dozen Vol. 2 - D-12

[gun cocked back] 

[Eminem] 

Nah, we ain't goin [echo] 

I love bein hated, it great it 

Let's me know that I made it 

I wouldn't have it no other way 

I wouldn't trade it for the world 

Only let's me know that I'm loved 

By so many other motherfuckers that ain't you 

And as long, as you keep fuckin with us, we keep fuckin you up 

And keep pullin the rug from up under you 

And what's ever more fucked up, is we enjoy what were doin 

So much there ain't nothin that we love more than +Pullin Your Skirts Up+ 

And exposin you hoes so much, people are startin to wonder 

What's up with them fuckin one dough a man under-els 

Do unto others of you will have done under you 

So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to 

When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you [gun cocks] 

You will ask youself, how come your mans 

Didn't enter that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's ass while he had the chance 

You keep askin us to keep it on wax but we can't 

This is past any irrationalization 

We have captured national media attention 

Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start buildin 

Soon as we enter the '106th & Park' building 

Someone's gonna get killed and I swear to God 

If someone so much as even touches one of my people 

I'll put a million on his head 

And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it 

But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit 

And it ain't because I'm a bitch 

It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with 

I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war 

I'm right there in the middle of the shit with 'em, so when I do get 'em 

Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be fuckin with a .. 

[Swifty McVay] 

Fuckin with a peacekeeper, see you the nigga that greet this lyrical meat cleaver 

That I eat ya, niggaz wanna keep speakin, like it ain't even that deep 

I got heat that'll sweep a niggaz street [explosion] 

See I wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya 

I'll be searchin for you longer than the "Legend of Zelda" 

Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the 

Captain that a bassett hound couldn't even smell ya 

Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob shit 

You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance bitch 

You get bombed like Lebanon [explosion] with my own tactic 

I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids 

[Obie Trice] 

Motherfucker, I'll handle you 

We can have it out on any Avenue 

A +Average Man+ flipped into an animal 

Shoot out your mandibles 

Cannons and ammunition, reload with precision 

Nigga know the mechanicals 

Break the pistol down, you should see them handles 

The street taught the child, no read up manuals 

Push your crack vows, young Nino Brown 

Chasin green is the dream, when your young and brown 

Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now 

A 'Dozen Dirty' niggaz and they all get down 

Dissolve any problem that enlarge with ours 

When revolvers we said "all men get down" ([gunshot], c'mon) 

[Kuniva] 

While your punchin and tacklin punks 

I'm handlin chumps, packin a pump 

That's longer than the elephant trunk [gun cocks] 

On the streets I'm a beast, I feast upon the weak 

So speak beef, I'll shot you and scream "increase the peace" 

A monster, pistol packin pushin niggaz off they Hondas 

Starve ya, get it crackin, yankin bitches for they ganja 

Sneaky as fuck, I don't think mama beat me enough 

When she was sleepin stuff, I was stealin the keys to the truck 

Shut the fuck up, before you end up dead in the dump truck 

Or in the streets takin a nap, bleedin and Lugged up 

+Who Want What+ like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep 

Then fuck it, it will be ten sleepin [gunshots] 

[Proof] 

Know much about my a land ski 

Don't tustle with my hand speed 

Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed 

We ferocious, toast no holsters 

Approach us, throw heat straight from the soldiers (c'mon, [gunshot]) 

We the soldiers, ya'll the youngsters (ha) 

Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in a dumpster [gunshot] 

Upstairs the Munsters, hand full of drama 

You scared of the drama, bomber the monster [gun cocks, boof] 

I'm back nigga (woof), I reappear 

Shoot like [gunshot], homie steer clear 

Blackness, carcass covered with cat fish 

We murkers with no purpose other than practice 

[Bizarre] 

There's three things I hate: liars, fakes and cheaters 

Alcoholics, sluts and fuckin wife beaters 

A gat that describes my life 

I don't even know who song this is [Obie Trice] 

Bitch, Bizarre don't give a fuck about no hip hop 

At my release party in a pink tank top in Reeboks [laughing] 

This Ja Rule beef I ain't gettin in 

I'll meet an are & be singer to sing at my wedding 

I turn your face into a fuckin meat patty 

I'll fuck your mommy and go fishin with your granny 

I'll +Shit on You+, I'll pee on R. Kelly too 

This is Bizarre, see you "Devil's Night 2"