Ali Lyrics - Searching For Jerry Garcia - Proof

[MC Breed] 

I'm in it witch'all (okay) 

Hit big cash, I'll spend it witch'all 

Win at the casino bitch, I'm spendin it all (hey) 

Leave in my Spreewells spinnin for y'all 

I'm in it for y'all, fact is (whattup) 

My contents have character, plays the background 

while I'm listenin to amateurs with no stamina (uh-uhh) 

Compared to my flow 

You're more or less recycled, career's on idle 

Keep it comin though 

If there's anyone or anybody that's potent enough, I wanna know 

Gorilla, and I'm iller, than a fifth of 

Hennessy and Belve', a big bagger killer 

Popcorn popper, won't stop 'til I cop e-nough 

trees to get the whole world fucked up 

I'm out of M-I, so when I say "Whatupdoe" 

Y'all niggaz put it on the flow 

[Chorus One: MC Breed] 

Hey where you gettin it from, I want.. {one too} 

Oh you got some of those, I got.. {one too} 

You got a fine-ass broad, I got.. {one too} 

And I'm drivin a Benz that get.. 

Oh you got one rolled, I got.. {one too} 

And a fat bank roll, I got.. {one too} 

You got a house on the hills, I got.. {one too} 

And I'm drivin a Benz that get.. 

[MC Breed] 

Uhh, nothin but that Cuervo Gold and cold Coronas 

Plug with them esse's that live in Arizona 

Yeah, put it in your bubble nigga, know I'm on ya 

Shake them haters off as soon as they get on ya 

Popcorn, all through my perfecto 

All I do is chief, it's hard for me to let go 

[Proof] 

Tecs blow like Del Rio - from the land 

of Air Force Ones, Detroit scum blow (cuatro cincos!) 

If you want it, IF got it, the gettin is good 

The best thing movin like a brick in the hood 

I'm wishin you would stumble out the club 

Fuck your slack (NIGGA) we can rumble out in floods 

We fuck by choice but fight when we can 

I'm good with the mic, but I'm nice with my hands 

I ain't for bangin, unless the ass hangin 

My last name ain't Kelly, but give me brain bitch, c'mon 

[Chorus Two: Proof] 

The name of my crew is D.. {one-two} 

You got some pills in your pocket, I want.. {one too} 

You got a knock baby boy, I got.. {one too} 

And I'm ballin on y'all like this is.. 

You got a Tab in your hand, I got.. {one too} 

You got a gun on your waist, I got.. {one too} 

You got a Roley on your wrist, I want.. {one too} 

And I'm pullin my heat to get.. 

[Proof] 

This is high octane that bang within block range 

Nothin but cold blood flow in my hot veins 

My shot aim with the pistol ain't the issue 

Got the title, "Battle Disciple" came to diss you 

Let's get to The Source with mics all I need black 

Cause 5 mics together, only makes feedback 

I'm what every rapper +dread+ like beeswax 

Snatch a rapper out his Timbs like stems on weed sacks 

(He's back!) Bitch, I never left 

Every step has been Proof to the fact that I'm evidence 

that Detriot co-co locos 

The flame slow flow where the snow blow and they roll 'dro 

My tendencies to spit, end MC's real quick 

Pass they Hennessy sips, enemies get ripped 

The penalty in vially, your memory dissolve 

The energy is wild, mentally I'm foul 

The entity now, howls instead of growl 

Already raw, cookin lookin for shook ones to set 'em down 

Don't worry about my record sales 

(I know this ain't the same Proof that's in D12!) 

Damn skippy, my hands swiftly grab a mic 

Any man gifted stand with it, it's battle night 

Soon as I get in the booth, spittin the truth 

This ain't for the Billboards, this is strictly for you 

[Chorus One]