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letra de oil can harry - proof

[intro:]
derty harry is dead [x4]
i’m here to announce that derty harry is dead
now we witness the rise of the son, oil can harry, the boss, hahaha

[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 c0ked up
if slim say it i spray it, if he will it i k!ll 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
we got school cr-p here at the 7, 8, and dexter
i’m up in hollis spendin’ dollars, ain’t feelin’ no pressure
yes sir, your texture is b-tch, betcha you flinch
when proof shoot up that coup and wet your whole clique
f-ck it, who’s next on this sh-t? this is [?]
when you brothers as stiff as slugs [?] ya wig
you’ll be next to b.i.g., pac it’s destiny kid
before ya lid get popped, stop testin’ me, b-tch

[chorus]
homie, you think you tough? (what?)
think we won’t f-ck you up? (punk)
even the innocent get pistol-whipped by this pistol grip (punk)
talkin’ sh-t you drunk (what)
think i won’t f-ck you up (punk)
we both deep, i ain’t scared and i don’t give a f-ck (jump)

[verse 2]
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 live in this b-tch
i’m a man, more i’m holdin’ my ground
to loadin’ these rounds, at any call approachin’ my crown (blah)
i’m a king o’ grimey, nothin’ but k!llas
in 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’ f-ggots 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!

- proof

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