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d12 - midwest nigga lyrics

[intro: bizarre]
yo, big t, bizarre
midwest n-gg-s, i don’t give a f-ck

[verse 1: bizarre]
george “the animal” steele mixed with buffalo bill
nine concealed, i’m ready to die for real
everybody, on earth can get wet
sixteen vicodin, fourteen percocet
bad, yeah, spot it i get him
doctors, nurses, hospitals gotta admit it
i beat a b-tch down worser than chris brown
move the car into illinois, how y’all with trey pounds?
loud sounds, aks start to click
(pow, pow) somebody got they -ss hit
roll kush blunts, got me elevated
january 15th, we still celebratin’
guns and ammo, i got a lot of toys
a f-ckin’ lunatic, i shoot my own boy
i pull that thang, put two in your brain
yo big t (yo), my boy james remains (biz), f-ck it

[verse 2: big t]
i lost my mind long time ago
not when i got shot, long time befo’
so i sleep alongside a fo’
with potato on the belt when they think idaho
they pull my card, i’d have known
shuffle n-gg-s’ decks, which way i’d a roll
masked up, make a lot of soul, [?], so i ain’t liable
[?] made a giant [?], fire hit him anyway he try to go
beatin’ me is like big baby gone rogue
[?] lane try to sco’
f-ckin’ slow, what else do you wanna know?
i got no love for a f-ckin’ hoe
kick rocks b-tch, with your new boy drop kick, baby thrown in a mosh pit

[verse 3: swifty mcvay]
constantly shittin’ on n-gg-s, and i’ma pee on hoes
they know lyrically, i keep a diary of flow
and i’m exposin’ you hoes like a picture
you b-tch n-gg-s be usin’ br-ss knuckles for dentures
i don’t call her, aim at their brains like a zombie
with a stainless steel and deranged army
i don’t accept sorry, your b-tch be grabbin’ on this d-ck like an atari joystick
a pussy as wide as a garage with five suvs in it
n-gg-s mistake me like mirages till the beef’s ended
they love smilin’ in your face on some fake shit
all in their necks n-gg-s d-ck, and they love tastin’ it
i just wanna [?], the [?] on my outro
my vehicle is laced with duct tape and a [?]
i drive around the city as crooked as [?]
bust in yo’ crib and blow your chest through the backdoor
this ain’t checkers b-tch, this chess, you did not know?
i check yo’ mate and slap the snot outta nostril
i’m pullin’ your card hoes, motherf-ck that benedict arnold
n-gg-s scared to come around and get bombed on
remain frightened, like a popped condom inside of the vagina of a prostitute, dyin’ from the common cold
quick to unload on n-gg-s in an instant
that goes for anybody that’s ridin’ on that b-tch shit, f-ck you

[verse 4: kuniva]
much love, i give ‘em pounds and hugs
when you walk away i hit you in the back with a slug
your main b-tch is on my nuts, lookin’ h-rny as f-ck
without wrestlin’, she said she need my cobra to clutch
on the roll with the .44 i’m packin’ on the bus
baggin’ up a bunch of bullets like i’m packin’ for a lunch
packin’ a punch, i’m runyon ave bred, get your mind right
or get it blown to the back of your head, now in hindsight
shouldn’t have never tested him, blessed with a curse
dressed in all black like i’m grippin’ a he-rs-, a clever specimen
captain of my regimen, take me to court
and we can settle out of court for nine mill is what settlement
f-ck you, the system, and anyone who be lyin’ up
push your moms off the ladder of a movin’ firetruck
we the rawest, sniffin’ ‘caine, puffin’ trees
and some [?] and the fedora, i’m grippin’ the stolen [?]
blaze somethin’ up, p-ss the hennesey or get your mouth split
and your pops beat up out his b-tton up
we be clubbin’ like ice cube, and get you jumped by a bunch of white dudes, stomped out with some spiked boots (f-ck you dude)

- d12 lyrics

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