Bring Our Boys

[Intro: Bizarre] Emceeeeeeees, RUN! Or get hit with my verbal gun! This mic weighs a ton! Dozen battles for fun I'll disrespect you and your crew Here comes MC Eye-Kyu! [Verse 1: Eye-Kyu] Your fakeness is atrocious Post this deep in yo' hypnosis Then focus, roll this and smoke this Like L's of that bomb-ass herb that's guaranteed to rock bells A hip-hop ReFugee like Prazwell Travellin' cities pimpin' Babblin' biddies game trump tight to solidify Computerized to get rid of spies - know what I do to guys Shootin' and spittin' lies? I'm banishin' existance Just vanish any instances, brandishin' sentences Provin' repentence is the only way to see me, don't miss these Me and my crew smoke so many trees that I piss leaves Never bammer bitch please, but keep smoke in my system Roll blunts- it's all tight On a off night, I still smoke like exhaust pipes And bust a universal flow to blow your wig back Like niggas with toupees drivin' a convertible And furthermore I run the board Yo' shit is played And the way you fell off, you couldn't bounce back with a bungee cord [Hook x4: Bizarre] Bring your boys and, we can bring the noise and You don't wanna fuck with Dirty Dozen! [Verse 2: Bizarre] My crew is like amazed, put in fear like ex-slaves Who wanna step to this microphone and think that they BRAVE? Dozen always startin' the fuckin' beef I don't give a fuck if you from Kansas, I'm still the fuckin' chief Back the fuck up I'm releasin' my dum-dums Tell your whore stop pagin me, 9-1-1 I'm a star that they call Bizarre Smokin' blunts with Mel Farr in my brand new car What nigga in their right mind wanna see me? If I was in Arizona, I'd still request iced tea Bizarre don't give a shit about you On top of the mountain - ain't nuttin' your bitch-ass crew can do Sick MC that they call Peter Treat your crew like an unexpected meter reader Talkin' more shit than Howard Cosell Butt-fuckin' jezebels in nasty hotels [Hook x4] [Verse 3: Proof] How you think yo' crew sound compared to this? It's the team that yo' entire clique is scared to diss Demandin' attentions when the Glock sound Y'all niggas to be murdered like Jeffrey Dahmer's on lock down I'm Brown like Bobby, pullin' hoes like Whitney Take your title, kill your moms- so you won't forget me Lips sealed; nigga, I might blow important plots Whoever front is gettin' done like Michael Jordan pops Yo I'm number one translator, mic famed Dirty D Y'all niggas gettin' hung like this was 1933 Got word of me- now flee, cause you ain't got a chance Death is three easy steps, so now we gotta dance So look away; don't play with the style master I love killing' beef, so I kill a whole cow pasture Lyrically, I'm sick ill, everything but sober My nickel-plate, pack the disc-tray Jack and fool get fucked over - BRING IT! [Verse 4: Eminem] Dirty Dozen is the clique so walk right over and lynch ya' Rip the ass right out ya' pants like a Doberman Pinscher Like the cobra and ninja, my intention's to injure And prevent ya from enterin' from an inch of my center Or get your motherfuckin' pants split at the creases Fuckin' you intellectually Givin' you mental sexually transmitted diseases My duty is to keep a stranger barred I guard my sector like a Saint Bernard and this ain't your yard Bringin' the noise like a trigger happy gun slinger Droppin' your whole clique with one finger 'til none linger Beware of my dogs attackin' like a pack of Great Danes Chargin' like freight trains through the great plains [Hook x4]