Song lyrics 40 oz by D12

[Intro (background "WHAT! WHAT! WHAT!")]
Yeah nigga! Itīs D12 up in this motherfucker!
You know how we get nigga we wild in the club
Motherfuckers, everybody get crunk in Detroit too nigga!
So wile the fuck out!

[Chorus]
Pour your 40 out. (Guzzle It) [8x]
Bitch!!!

[Bizzare]
We fucked up,
Let us in the club.
One of yīall niggas gonī catch a slug, (Yeah)
Iīm so drunk I could hurl for a month.
Any nigga pop shit, go to the trunk.
D12 start shit, nigga come get us,
7 Mile Runyan, wild niggas wit us,
Cause all my niggas is talkinī that shit.
Ainīt got no problem, with smackin no bitch.
Iīll have my wife, cut your throat.
Blunts, gans, thatīs all we smoke
Wild the fuck out, stab you with a knife,
Itīs D12 nigga, we ready to fuckinī fight.

[Chorus]

Biiitch
[Eminem]
Who tryinī to be the first one to catch this blade in the throat!
You know the po-po donīt let me hold them toasters no moī
I just cut three people, you gonī be number four
If you donīt back the fuck up, and get the fuck up off the floī.
My crew is takin over as soon as we hit the doī
You hit the door then we cominī in and you goinī home.
Security that canīt even stop us because they know,
Runyan Avenue soldiers hold it down wherever we go.
Suckin on our 40īs and holdin up .44īs.
We come with toasters like we just opened savingīs and loans.
And we donīt need your brew tonight homie we brought our own.
So grab whatever you sippin on and letīs get it on!!!!

[Chorus]

[Kuniva]
We deep as a motherfuck, we ībout to get it crunk
You just another punk in the club about to get jumped
I settle my vendettas with AKīs, Berettas
We dont supposed to be in here with our weapons but still they let us.
Switchblade, brass knuckles, nickel plated belt buckle.
Broken beer bottles, when we walk in you can smell trouble.
Elbows flying, bitches crying, niggas bleeding, you retreating.
Run into your car and skatin off, We Gīing
We make example out of you haters runninī your mouth.
You the reason why your peoples is pourin they 40z out.
Dirty Dozen whiling, beat niggas bloodied.
And you gonī have to pour out a keg for all your homies.

[Chorus]

Biiitch
[Proof]
I was raised by drunks, so I became a drunk.
80 Proof for this rocker, thatīs the name I want.
Iīm in the club to beef, you gotta murder me then
Only talk to a bitch with burgundy hair.
Or the aisle in the back, bump a seven deuce.
See that top on that 40, you know itīs cominī loose.
See me on the Av. daily, we runninī this shit.
If your chick get loud, I g-money that bitch.
Packin mags and clips, Iīll smash your clique.
Because of Proof they put the "G" in the alphabet.
Smoking weed, drinking henny, remy, in that jimmy
Donīt worry if we run out the corner store got plenty.

[Chorus]