D12 40 Oz. Lyrics

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Yeah *****! It's D12 up in this ************!
You know how we get ***** we wild in the club
************s, everybody get crunk in Detroit too *****!
So wile the **** out!

Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
*****!

We ****ed up, let us in the club
One of y'all *****s gon' catch a slug
I'm so drunk, I could hurl for a month
Any ***** pop ****, go to the trunk
D12 start ****, ***** come get us
7 Mile run in, wild *****s wit us
Cause all my *****s, is talking that ****
And got no problem, wit smacking no *****
I'll have my wife, cut your throat
Blunts, cannons, that's all we smoke
Wile the **** out, stab you wit a knife
It's D12 *****, we ready to ****ing fight!

Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
*****!

Who's trying to be the first one
To catch this blade in the throat?!
You know them po po don't let me hold 'em toasters no more!
I just clapped three people, you gon' be number four!
If you don't back the **** up and get the **** off the floor!
My crew is taking over as soon as we hit the door!
You hit the door, but we coming in and you going home!
Security, they can't even stop us because they know!
Runyan Avenue soldiers hold us down, rep where ever we go!
Chugging on our 40's and holding our forty-fo's!
We come wit toasters like we just opened savings and loans!
And we don't need your brew tonight homie we brought our own!
So grab whatever you sipping on and let's get it on!!

Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
*****!

We deep as a ************, we bout to get it crunk
You just another punk in the club about to get jumped
I settle my vendettas wit AK's, barettas
We don't 'posed to be in here wit our weapons but still they let us
Switch blade, brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckle
Broken beer bottles, when we walk in you can smell trouble
Elbows flying, *****es crying, *****s bleeding
You retreating, running to your car and skating off, re G'ing
We examples outta you haters running yo mouth
You reason why you peoples is pouring they 40's out
Dirty Dozen wiling, beat *****s bloody
And you gon have to pour out a keg for all your homies!

Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
*****!

I was raised by drunks so I became a drunk
80 Proof on this vodka, that's the name I want
I'm in the club to beef, you gotta murder me there
Only talk to a *****, with burgundy hair
ON the Isle in the Vette, bumping Seven Duece!
See that top on that 40, you know it's coming loose
See me on the ave daily, be running this ****
If your chick get loud I'll G Money that *****
Packing mags and clips, I'll smash ya clique
Because of Proof, they put the G in the alphabet
Smoking weed, drinking Henny, Remy and that Jimmy
Don't worry if you run out the corner store I got plenty!

Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
Pour Your 40 out! Guzzle It!
*****!

Written by: Von M Carlisle, De Shaun Dupree Holton, Rufus Johnson, Rufus B Johnson, Joe A. (track Boyz) Kent, Marshall B Iii Mathers, Mark A (track Boyz) Williams
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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