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Proof f/ Eminem - Текст песни We Ain't Scared
[Intro]
 Dirty Harry is dead [x4]
 I'm here to announce that Dirty Harry is dead
 Now witness the life of his son, or Oil Can Harry, The Boss
 [Proof]
 My life is trapped in these lines, that's why I'm packin' these nines
 I gotta rap I ain't dyin', that's in the back on my mind
 Got a strap made of iron, can't relax on this grind
 Bendin' over backwards for these slackers til I'm snappin' my spine
 Naturally, I gotta focus
 On these bogus poachers, lookin' over my shoulder, Proof get it poppin' like soda
 Hold up
 [Eminem] (We nothin' but soldiers)
 Slow up
 [Eminem] (This gun is loaded)
 Roll up
 [Eninem] (They beef and we leavin' 'em coked up)
 If Em say it I spray it, if he willin' I kill it
 We kill packs to get iller Detroit, y'all can feel it
 Got this gun on my wasteline, in war we don't waste time
 Ja, man he can't take a punch and 50 can take nine
 We got School Craft here at the 7, 8, and text her
 I'm up in Holly, spendin' dollas, ain't feelin' no pressure
 Yes sir, your texture is bitch, bet'cha ya flinch
 When Proof shoot up they coup, and wet your whole clique
 Fuck it who's next on this shit, this is prefrence to bitch
 When you preface to stiffen slugs enter your wig
 You'll be next to BIG, Pac is destiny kid
 Before ya lead get popped, stop testin' me bitch
 Proof f/ Eminem - We Ain't Scared - http://ru.motolyrics.com/proof-f-eminem/we-aint-scared-lyrics.html
 [Chorus]
 Homie you think you tough (what)
 Think we won't fuck you up (punk)
 Even the innocent get pistol-whipped by this pistol grip (punk)
 Talkin' shit you drunk (what)
 Think I won't fuck you up (punk)
 We both deep, I ain't scared and I don't give a fuck (jump)
 [Proof]
 I ain't feel no games, homie don't even try
 We ain't bowin' down to no one we gon' start a riot (yeah)
 Heart of fire, soul of ice, roll the dice, see what you get
 No advice, all my life I ain't leavin' in this bitch
 I'm a man, more I'm holdin' my ground
 To loadin' these rounds, at any call approachin' my ground (blah)
 I'm a kid but grimey, nothin' but killas
 And behind me, I'm a bully fully cuz your team is tiny
 If I was to crush 'em, got to say these Bibles are nothin'
 This rifle on clutches to leave you stifled on crutches
 I fight for my cousins that ain't even related
 Even I stated, not from life I leave you bleedin' and faded
 Hatin' made in my nature, I'm clappin' and clackin' your captain
 Smackin' faggots and act as a rapper with platinum status, ya livin'
 flappin' 'em slappin' 'em backwards
 After these rappers' status
 To shadders, knowin' Proof and that Mathers has gathered an army
 It's Shady bandatas
 After rest the game is won, who in the matters get blamed fast with brain damage
 The name that some forgot, D12, it ain't hard to feel, guard ya grill, it's REAL!
[Chorus]
















