Tekst piosenki
(The Aphilliates-style, motherfucker. Pay attention!) [Intro: DJ Young Mase] And just like that, mixtape shit is now official DJ Young Mase, AKA Mr. Detroit City You know what time it is Return of the Dozen: Kuniva, Big Proof, Marshall Mathers Bizarre, Kon Artist, Swift McVay [Hook: Bizarre] [x2] We, we, we, we, we, we, we, we, we back We back, we back (It's D12, mother-fucker. It's D12, mother-fucker) [Verse 1: Swifty] I've been firing up my ounces in Vietnam in houses Just the past time. Go ask about me in the county I am mentally disruptive and untouched; I'm not lying I'll snipe you faster than a nigga that's been caught wired My thought process is maniacal Tylenol threes mixed with Vicodin can make a hella antidone Speak irrelevant. There ain't enough medicine That can stop me from swelling your mouths worse than pelicans I can sock whores that's with enough force To crack the back of their skeletons; fuck having remorse You'd be better off being suicidal than forfeiting You can hide your horsemen, but not they vital organs Snitches are foes and when they see me Folks are quick to point their fingers at me faster than ET My felonies be changing with the weather I'll be the nigga blacker than X-Clan and the Panthers put together [Hook] [Verse 2: Bizarre] Back in the studio, back on the block Back in St. Andrews',, got them hammers cocked Nigga' I don't get shot: I do the shooting Gang member: I do all the recruiting Ball till y'all fall, out there in Reno Blowing ten thousand: Motor City casino They say my group was wanted on some IRS shit That's what happens when five niggas sell bricks When it comes to beefing, we don't need Marshall St. Aubin massacre: call me Tamara Marshall Come on your block and get loose Shoot niggas for a triple-fat goose. This one's for Proof This is for my dawgs. This is for my peoples This is for them niggas, Bacardis and the Regals (I see dead people) And it might be you If you ever, ever disrespect my crew [Hook] [Verse 3: Kuniva] Your boys are back in the building; yeah, we back on the map Back to doing them drugs; packing the mac in the Ac' If you wanna get 'em up, let's make hap' with a scrap Niggas be running they trap until the hammer go 'clap' Bloody you up like a Cotex; leave your face big like Rolex My guns carry 21 like 'three feet, no check' The laid-back, bumping James Brown; the big payback I don't play that like Pat, so don't say jack Shit is real in this killing field; where's your game face? Fuck you, your whole family and your namesake So step back and observe these little clowns Like they running this town, like we don't get down In my crib, I got plaques: they hanging all around And the only plaque you got is hanging in your mouth You're not like us: a million fans overseas We can leave for a week and come back with a hundred Gs We back [Hook] [Outro: DJ Young Mase] The dozen: they been all over the country; overseas Niggas done laid low for a minute But now we back. The streets is ours We back like we never left, niggas You know what time this is: Return of the Dozen mixtape, hosted by the general The fuck y'all wanna do now? All y'all hating-ass niggas get your thongs ready: we back, D12!
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