[Intro: Proof]
Ayo this Big Proof, D12 (I.F.)
My killa’ fam, I’ll show you how to kill a man (Haha)
I’ll show you how to kill a man

[Verse 1: Proof, [?]]
I bust gats, trust that, n***a, I’m P
[?] holla’ at me
Let the motherfucker [?] up
Turn up the volume
Pass that flier [?] it’s the album
Devil’s Night fags get beat with metal pipes
I’m the ghetto type problemed child that never right (Bitch!)
My the [?] I heat up blocks
Beat up cops
Talk a lot behind my back, bitch, speak up now! (What!)
Don’t stutter, brother, I’ll smack you fast
Drive yo’ girl home and just tap that ass (Thanks!)
Come back and blast if you n***as act like fags
I’m on the tv so y’all see me with the gat and mask
But for real, shit, you’ll remember me after
So dope with the verse, I’m in the purse of Kimberly Mathers
Killa fam, D12, the best babblin’ nonsense
I’m the wrong n***a to fuck with like Magic Johnson

[Chorus: Proof]
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You don’t wanna’ talk shit
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ mouth off
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ square off
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ be locked up
You don’t wanna draw guns
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
[Verse 2: [?]]
I’ve never seen a man cry
‘Till I’ve seen a man die
Barrel to his arm and his chest took 5
Closed casket, dumb bastard, shit got drastic
Caught up on 8 Mile, his [?]
Oh Lordy! There goes a first-born child
‘Cause he kept on (Kept on)
Flappin’ his mouth
And he thought that (Thought that)
It won’t go down
Someone better help his clown out now
Ok, let’s get, right in to it
Never knew the hate in my heart, until she blew it
Seen the after party, [?]
Proof and [?] let’s get this thing [?]

[Chorus: Proof]
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You don’t wanna’ talk shit
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ mouth off
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ square off
You don’t wanna’ drop [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ be locked up
You don’t wanna draw guns
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
[Verse 3: [?]]
Electrifying, death defying (Wow!)
Gettin’ all up in that ass, stay [?]
Pack more heat than Nolan Ryan
I get the job done, fuck the trying!
Coming harder than you motherfuckin' poppin’ Viagra pills
Can [?] shoot to kill?
Catch me in the Coup de Ville
Gettin’ stupid, dumb, silly
[?] I’mma rob the [?]
And I’ve become hard enough
To put a frickin’ daughter up
In every frickin’ mommy in the U.S.A. (Awww nah!)
Sometimes it gets hotter than the weather in the valleys(?)
So I do what I gotta and put it away
It’s like hakuna matata, ‘cause I ain’t worried
If you messin’ with my fam’
Then damn, you gettin’ buried!
We roll deeper than the underwater sleeper
And my gramps got heaters that are harder than most [?]

[Chorus: Proof]
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You don’t wanna’ talk shit
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ mouth off
You don’t wanna’ [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ square off
You don’t wanna’ drop [?]
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!
You don’t wanna’ be locked up
You don’t wanna draw guns
You hear that!? (Gun cocking)
That means run!