Oil Can Harry

Lyrics

[Intro: Proof & DJ Salam Wreck] (Salam Wreck!) (Derty Harry is dead) I'm here to announce that Derty Harry is dead (Derty Harry is dead) Now we witness the birth of the son (Derty Harry is dead) Oil Can Harry, the Boss (Derty Harry is dead) Hah hah hah (Wreck!) (Derty Harry is dead) [Verse 1: Proof & Eminem] 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 of 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 Natural high, gotta focus on these bogus poachers Lookin' over my shoulder, Proof get it poppin' like soda, hold up We nothin' but soldiers! Slow up! This gun is loaded! Roll up! They beef and we leavin' 'em coked up! If Em say it, I spray it; if he will it, I kill it We Kilpatrick and Ilitch of Detroit, y'all can feel it Real as this gun on my waistline, at war we don't waste time Ja, man, he can't take a punch and 50 can take nine (Brrrah!) We got Schoolcraft, Puritan, 7, 8, and Dexter I'm up in Hollis spendin' dollars, ain't feelin' no pressure Yes sir, your texture is bitch, betcha you flinch When Proof shoot up that coup and wet your whole clique Fuck it, who's next on this shit? This is breakfast to pits When you breathless and stiff, slugs exit ya wig You'll be next to B.I.G., 'Pac, it's destiny kid Before ya lid get popped, stop testin' me, bitch! (What!) [Chorus: Proof] 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!) [Verse 2: Proof] I ain't for them 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 on my life, I ain't leavin' this bitch I'm a man, I'm holdin' my ground and unloadin' these rounds At any clown approachin' my crown (Brrrah!) I'ma keep it grimey, nothin' but killas seen behind me I'ma bully fully 'cuz your team is tiny If I was to crush 'em, God can't save you; Bibles is nothin' This rifle I'm clutchin' to leave you stifled on crutches (Hah!) I fight for my cousins that ain't even related Even I'll state it now from life I leave you bleedin' and faded Hatin' made in my nature, I'm clappin' and clackin' your captain Smackin' faggots and actors and rappers with platinum status Ya lips flappin', I'm slappin' 'em backwards, half of these rappers' status just shatters Just knowin' Proof and the Mathers has gathered an army It's Shady bandanas, after us the game is won Who in the matters get plain-fashioned brain damage The name that some forgot, D12 It ain't hard to feel, guard ya grill, it's real! [Chorus: Proof] 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!) [Outro: DJ Salam Wreck] Yeah, Big Proof! Grown Man Sh!t! Shoutout to Mark Hicks, Jimmy Neutron Mario, SkinnyBoysGraphix You know what I'm sayin'? 1st Born, everybody up at Iron Fist DJ Salam Wreck, let's go!