We Live This sh*t lyrics

[Intro]
*Ha* We live this sh*t *Ha, Ha*

[Verse 1: Proof & Kon Artis]
I'm ’bout as crazy as Mike Tyson is
A fallen [?] from out the raspers that bounce twice and live
Rollin' (rollin) blindfolded on the Eisenbridge
And doin' driveby’s on [Censored]
For police, fights and pigs(?)
Split that [?] b*tch for [?]
Tell Shyne that n*gga ain't as nice as B.I.G
And I'mma jab at his [?] like some spicy ribs (In his mouth!)

[Verse 2: Kuniva]
Well it's you true [?] man
This is yo' last chance to test yo'self
You get dumped in a trashcan
b*tch, hide your dope (Uh-huh)
I'll be lurkin' like second hand smoke
I’m snatchin’ throats as soon as I find that rope
You get drugged like that n*gga from Texas
Twelve noon in thе subdivision
In the back of a tilted Lexus (n*gga!)
So you can gеt this message
b*tches wouldn't listen
See I sh*tted on that cop when the n*gga caught me p*ssen
[Verse 3: Kon Artis]
Yo, yo, you came to brawl with me?
n*gga please work on yo six pack
Started off singing and personally you should switch back
Or get hit with a brick in your back
Find your buddy jabbed, cut up in the back of my Pontiac in a nap-sack
Denaun don’t be bullsh*ttin' with y'all
I hang with felons and all I gotta make is a call (B-r-r-r-ing!)
They [?] withdrawal
Blast from a n*gga with guns
Watch [?] crawl and hide the body behind the drywalls

[Verse 4: Kuniva & Kon Artis]
I'm a walkin timebomb
With a destructive radius
Packin’ guns with nuclear-tipped bullets at stadiums
Streetsmart, runnin you over with shopping carts
Coppin darts, fill em up with ammonia and started off
I'ma said it, clickin' off more shots than diabetics (Blow! Blow!)
Even shootin' the paramedic for bein' sympathetic (I bring acid!(?))
Known for wreckless drivin' and car-crashin (Ayo we bad sh*t!)
Take your momma's car without asking

[Chorus: Bugz, Bizarre, & Kon Artis]
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t
DIRTY DIRTY DOZEN!! we live this sh*t (We live this sh*t!)
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (n*gga, we live this sh*t!)
DIRTY DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (b*tch please listen!)
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (I said listen!)
[Verse 5: Bizarre, Kon Artis, Both]
Let me begin
What? Where? Why? When? When? (What?)
Bizarre f*ck around and blast you and your friends (Get down!)
See I'm not insane, in fact I'm kinda lyrical (Uh-huh)
If you live past twelve, it'll be a miracle!
n*ggas wanna diss me in they f*ckin wack rhymes (Shut up!)
We spy back, your mother's dead by lunchtime (I'm serious!)
Ask the last rapper who tried to diss me
You won't be able to cause his f*ckin life is history ([?] is dead!)
Better bring your army if you plan on gettin me (Uh-huh)
They takin' sh*t of [?] (Yo!)

[Verse 6: Kon Artis]
Ayo, I'm known for drivin' drunk boppin' my head with a [?]
Hittin' pedestrians and f*ckin' hoes till they pass out
My idea of a romantic evening is day rape
[?] on the run for police hoppin' out of your momma's fire-escape
Its ten stories high
Land on a limo
Kill the chauffer then skirt off pumpin' my new demo
My life's on lease (Uh-huh!)
Get a piece of your grandniece and tell her my real name's Reece

[Verse 7: Kuniva]
I throw a forty on the governor's grass
Cover yo ass
You trapped!
Quick to get out of line 'cause I be drunk writtin' raps
Ain't no punks fighting back
I get high in crack [?]
Vou see a n*gga up in Singapore [?] him
Throwin' grenades inside of stadiums
Smack yo lady and then advice you n*ggas aching we Brigadin' 'em
You can call the national guards b*tch I'm payin' 'em
Blast yo squad then I'ma get the f*ck away from them
I ain't got sh*t to say to them but get the di*k
Quick to f*ck police officers' wives with nightsticks, motherf*cker!
[Chrous: Bugz, Bizarre, & Kon Artis]
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (I said we live this sh*t!)
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (I said we live this sh*t!)
DIRTY DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (n*gga, we live this sh*t!)
DIRTY DOZEN! we live this sh*t (b*tch, we live this sh*t!)

[Verse 8: Kuniva & Kon Artis]
Ayo I slit throats
Walk in a diner and order French toast
Take a flight to Littleton (b*tch gimme back my trenchcoat!)
I strike back, don't even ask for this mic back
You better of askin' Deebo for your bike back
You make the era of inviting n*ggas who like fighting n*ggas
Like Mike Tyson, the murderous trife titan(?)
I make a statement, rippin' your truck up on your pavement
Lookin' for something hark enough to hit you in your face with

[Verse 9: Proof, Kon Artis, & Both ]
And then I grab you by your neck
And [?] my bullet loose
Trapped in a soundproof and wrapped in bulletproof
Holdin 380's to naked twin babies!
Dirty Dozen the reason y'all don't f*ck with Slim Shady!
Receive more hits than a baseball stadium
Run up on the Temptations and waste all eight of 'em (Every last one!)
We can battle with yo' command
Snatch the spine out your back and make you fold like a bad poker hand! (Oh God!)

[Verse 10: Bizarre & Kon Artis]
All you big n*ggas
I like that [?]
I'm to old to be wrestlin'
And f*cking up my clothes
Now you all alone, on the ground by yourself
While your boy yells (Hey somebody get some help!)
f*ck your truce, ain't no apologies
I shoot so much I got funeral homes following me

[Outro: Kon Artis]
Ya that's right!
Ya! Ya!
And while your talking all that
We live this sh*t!
You motherf*ckers ain't doing sh*t!
I'm telling you right now!
D12!