Ali

(feat. MC Breed)

[MC Breed]

I'm in it witch'all (okay)

Hit big cash, I'll spend it witch'all

Win at the casino bitch, I'm spendin it all (hey)

Leave in my Spreewells spinnin for y'all

I'm in it for y'all, fact is (whattup)

My contents have character, plays the background

while I'm listenin to amateurs with no stamina (uh-uhh)

Compared to my flow

You're more or less recycled, career's on idle

Keep it comin though

If there's anyone or anybody that's potent enough, I wanna know

Gorilla, and I'm iller, than a fifth of

Hennessy and Belve', a big bagger killer

Popcorn popper, won't stop 'til I cop e-nough

trees to get the whole world fucked up

I'm out of M-I, so when I say "Whatupdoe"

Y'all niggaz put it on the flow

[Chorus One: MC Breed]

Hey where you gettin it from, I want.. {one too}

Oh you got some of those, I got.. {one too}

You got a fine-ass broad, I got.. {one too}

And I'm drivin a Benz that get..

Oh you got one rolled, I got.. {one too}

And a fat bank roll, I got.. {one too}

You got a house on the hills, I got.. {one too}

And I'm drivin a Benz that get..

[MC Breed]

Uhh, nothin but that Cuervo Gold and cold Coronas

Plug with them esse's that live in Arizona

Yeah, put it in your bubble nigga, know I'm on ya

Shake them haters off as soon as they get on ya

Popcorn, all through my perfecto

All I do is chief, it's hard for me to let go

[Proof]

Tecs blow like Del Rio - from the land

of Air Force Ones, Detroit scum blow (cuatro cincos!)

If you want it, IF got it, the gettin is good

The best thing movin like a brick in the hood

I'm wishin you would stumble out the club

Fuck your slack (NIGGA) we can rumble out in floods

We fuck by choice but fight when we can

I'm good with the mic, but I'm nice with my hands

I ain't for bangin, unless the ass hangin

My last name ain't Kelly, but give me brain bitch, c'mon

[Chorus Two: Proof]

The name of my crew is D.. {one-two}

You got some pills in your pocket, I want.. {one too}

You got a knock baby boy, I got.. {one too}

And I'm ballin on y'all like this is..

You got a Tab in your hand, I got.. {one too}

You got a gun on your waist, I got.. {one too}

You got a Roley on your wrist, I want.. {one too}

And I'm pullin my heat to get..

[Proof]

This is high octane that bang within block range

Nothin but cold blood flow in my hot veins

My shot aim with the pistol ain't the issue

Got the title, "Battle Disciple" came to diss you

Let's get to The Source with mics all I need black

Cause 5 mics together, only makes feedback

I'm what every rapper +dread+ like beeswax

Snatch a rapper out his Timbs like stems on weed sacks

(He's back!) Bitch, I never left

Every step has been Proof to the fact that I'm evidence

that Detriot co-co locos

The flame slow flow where the snow blow and they roll 'dro

My tendencies to spit, end MC's real quick

Pass they Hennessy sips, enemies get ripped

The penalty in vially, your memory dissolve

The energy is wild, mentally I'm foul

The entity now, howls instead of growl

Already raw, cookin lookin for shook ones to set 'em down

Don't worry about my record sales

(I know this ain't the same Proof that's in D12!)

Damn skippy, my hands swiftly grab a mic

Any man gifted stand with it, it's battle night

Soon as I get in the booth, spittin the truth

This ain't for the Billboards, this is strictly for you

[Chorus One]