We Don’t Like U

Lyrics

[Intro: Proof] This what they need to know They need to know this is some Sicknotes shit, you hear me? (Sicknotes) They need to know that shit This also some Promatic shit, ya hear me? That's Dogmatic and Proof, ya hear me? We Don't Like U We Don't Like U (Detroit what?!) Esham, We Don't Like U ICP, we don't Like y'all, now listen [Verse 1: Proof] Lets go back before rapping and mixing and toasting and dubbing When I was making bread without a loaf in the oven I'll snipe at the closest of your cousins Put you on a poster for fronting (See that? Now don't do that) Blew back your wig, that's how New Jacks get did After a few tracks and beers, kicking new raps for ears Y'all Ready To Die like B.I.G. recorded? When your flow is shittier than rigor mortis For all the kids deported, I rid the borders I swallowed the weed, jumped the bridge's shoulders Players that run the D don't use words Like "Shhh".... ya heard? Proof is now its own, for now and known I'm a grounded mole, while I plow your home Spit flames, now nigga your brows are gone You ain't shit, I'm a thousand miles from wrong I'll eradicate your molecules And even if your Momma had swallowed you, or your Pops pulled out on you I don't like you overnight hype with mics, that Have little trife fights with dykes Have Mountain Climbaz, [?] the pipes BLAOW! Then yo' wife sniped your life Over my verses niggas high from this spit You don't even hear the boom 'cause you die from the clip, little bitch [Chorus x2: Dogmatic & Proof] Proof don't like you 'Matic don't like you We Don't Like U BIATCH! [Verse 2: Dogmatic, Proof & Both] Yo, live from Detroit it's Saturday Night As I bite down on these shrooms, I'm bound to fight Snatching ice on sight (Bitch it's Devil's Night) Give me fifty cent worth of gas and a rag to light Ayo we blowing up your house, you think we playing? WE BLOWIN UP YOUR HOUSE! Know what I'm saying? You a accident waiting to happen And just as soon I'm finished rapping, my 380 'bout to start clapping You better hope that I'm high when I see you (Ayo wassup) And if I'm high, still I'm walking by when I see you And if I'm sober it's all fuckin over You better hope you never see the 'Matic no more Get your little ligaments tore, have your jaw sore Attack your whack [?] like a fucking wild boar Punk the hardest nigga, treat him like a whore My face in the dictionary under hardcore Kick in the door, wavin' the .44 All you heard was, "'Matic, don't hit me no more Punch him in the nose and shoot him in the shin Let him know, me and them hoe niggas ain't friends [Sample] You little bitch BIATCH! BIATCH! [Chorus x2: Dogmatic & Proof] Proof don't like you 'Matic don't like you We Don't Like U BIATCH! [Verse 3: Obie Trice] I don't even like you dog but since you here I might as well throw yo' up out of that chair Put you in a figure 4 Grab my beer and crack you over the head with it and buy some more I'm so secure with my Thug Life That I rarely start fights, the name's on y'all (COME ON!) Obie Trice, the name's all me Dirty like the Dozen you hear on CD Or Sick like the Notes Dogmatic [?] Nope, oh, no joke get smoked (BLAOW!) Provoke your funeral, front row yo' folks I'm just a man with a Glock in my hand That plan to send slugs through niggas I can't stand Since [?] the topic, stare these nigga dead in the optic And watch the Glock spit nigga, 'cause We Don't Like U [Chorus x2: Dogmatic & Proof] Proof don't like you 'Matic don't like you We Don't Like U BIATCH!