No escapin' this). [Kon Artis- Intro]. Ha ha ha. Yo yo yo yo-yo. D12 Kon Artis. Yo yo. [Kon Artis]. Oh we sound like Em clones uh?. Where the fuck you think he started at homes uh?. Skip the small talk talkin' is a risk you take. Kick yo' face 'till yo' head go through this window and break. To the 1-9 Denaun cause the gun-line. And collect yank from every weed spot like I'm one time. I'm ain't the remorseful type I'll drink and still drive prone on any thing at any given night. Fuck leavin' my roots I'm still in cahoots with nincompoots who shoot up like troops in Babe Ruth. Pull up in a red hersh with Fred Durst dressed like a nurse. With a cold purse screamin' the stove hurt. [Bizarre]. On my Harley Davison I ride down Main Street. I speed with my dad's name on my ass cheek. Gimme your ones and get robbed with a broken gun. Got you doin' more dances than Puffy's son. All you groupies that wanna get took you gotta be 12 years old with a coloring book. And anyone else who wanna get fucked cause... (No one's ready to deal with us). [Eminem]. Whether you rap or you don't rap (No escapin' this). Duck 'fo you get rushed (No escapin' this). Get stucked fuckin' with us (No escapin' this). Cause.... (No one's ready to deal with us). We interrupt your little world of perfect mist. To bring you this shit that murder conserved us with. Cursin' diss with verses so merciless these words can just fuck up your high worse than this.... I KILL for less and dump BODIES in the muthafuckin' wilderness. I'm a wilderbeast I conceal the peace even after I was bust if I want police. You think just because I got caught by these cops once. I'm not gonna carry shot guns to blow your wigs back like hamburgers without buns!!. Too many damn murders I can't even count one!!. Two black guns I don't know maybe they're Magnums?!!. I don't know what the fuck they're called I just grabbed 'um!!. 12-gauge dumped in a drug fueled rage fuck age I'm still goin' through my "fuck-you" stage. I'm a "27-year-old-eleven-year-old" I'ma never grow up bitch I ain't gon' never get old. I'll be sittin' here with a cane and a beard. Still insane and as weird as a deaf-can'-even-hear brain in my rear yeah. So 'till I'm wrinkled as Robert Van Winkle I'm a drop a damn single every goddamn week people. It's D12 June 19th so do like me and go buy three with no I.D.. Kids.... [Proof]. Now why you wanna play a game with me dangerously. The outcome's hot once splittin' your brain in three. Proof with crooked raps always ask them "What the fuck you lookin' at"?. And invite the hook to scrap. I gave my life to God n***a then I took it back. Took it black this fuckin' gat will leave your cookie cracked. Detroit's derelict arrogant terrorist straight on you areospit. Spit at people various people to leave you bloody 'till your buried with. Every hit was serious n***as wanna know how murderous The Dirty Harry is. When I'm on your front porch with guns about to bust. Cause.... (No one's ready to deal with us). [Swift]. Ha. When they runnin' to Swift they change directions. My shit so tight when hoes hear it they catch a yeast infection. You need protection you gon' fear it. I snatch away yo' DNA from existance with no spirit. Give up the carrots or see the .9. Fuckin' with mine is like barracine chewin' up swine on Christmas. With a white trailer bitch on his arm chillin' in Europe havin dinner with a platime. I attack killin' fuckin' hoes like Mack Dillin'. Stackin' obituaries higher than Michcael Jackson's cieiclin'. I leaves nobody livin' I got Satan shiverin'. Hate what I'm deliverin' you know the best then send 'em in crack you with a fifth of gin. You got your mem but they all wearin' skirts like them ***** from Scotland you hoes are not grimm. Don't make me stop in with a mag and blow yo feet up out yo Top Ten's. [Kuniva]. I'm the one they call in the "Tortia". Smackin' your bitch and forcin' her in the back seat of an old Corcia. Kuniva's the silent type but under the silence violent life usually followed by sirens and lights. Get your throat cut by this tyrant's knife from high as a kite. From get-a-way drivers drivin' right. Fuckin' with Hans will get you flipped like a baton the deadliest bombs. Wrap around n***as like Camabons you know I ain't nothin' to play with. Thinkin' you real like The Matrix fuckin' with ***** drippin' off self-hatred. I'm on some live shit rappers be on some "ready-to-die" shit. 'Till I put a ice pick right through they eyelids fuck heaters I'll knock you out instead of shootin'. I hit hard break yo' fuckin' jaw like Resolution. Give up the cash and coat or get your little brother's classroom smoked. And the substitue gaged and choked. *****.... D12 June 19th.... Get ready for it.... Trouble soon baby.... You know it.... Tell your mama and your sister too.... Cause we fuckin' 'em...