Proof

Proof - Ja In A Bra lyrics

rate me

[Ja Rule: Sample]

Its murdaaa... hahaha...its murda..

We back up in this motherfucker!!!

Its murda... yall know who we be (ayo don't let me catch you!!)

R.U.L.E... my nigga Fatal on my 1s, 2s, holla back you bitch ass niggaz!!

Yo, yo, motherfuckin cocksucker

If y'all havnt heard yet that nigga loose change is loose

And I got proof, get it, I got proof..

[beat changes]

[Intro: Proof]

WOOF!!

You know my name, its like this..PROOF!!!

D12 shitnotes!

Its war now! Lets man up! (WOOF)

No prisoners! No casualties! All my riders lets ride then! CMON!

(WOOF)

[Verse 1:]

Word on the street is that I murda this Inc

Get whacked with the hands not deservin the heatin

There's nerves in this beef

To Irv and his peeps: I ain't rappin no mo'

I speak through the curves in the streets

Ya hit's, man, is weak

Ya did a poor job, that midget Cookie Monster be hangin' from a door knob

Ya lucky I don't like touchin women

And don't like no peace, talk somethin' with Russel Simons, (WOOF)

Got the right connections

My perception, ya know, would be beefin, ya life is definatly gone

The ?? singin' at least the Woof of rap

You'll need more than a Bush attack, don't push me back! (WOOF)

You think it's just 50 and Sha, listen up Ja, no kids in the lobby in

Detroit city wishin you DIE!

I know you just wanna rap and be Pac, but before its said and done

you gon' see PAC! (WOOF)

[Hook:]

Yall don't want war, y'all want talk

In the dark my dogs all bark like WOOF!

PROOF, nigga, I'ma WOOF

Now you all SHOOK

I'ma about to getcha brain pushed BACK!

[Verse 2:]

CHRIS GOTTI!!

This nigga had the nerve to have ten niggaz sneak me just to get wit me

I'm only 160 and the fact is

I murder niggaz, DJs, and kittens

I only walk out with scratches, wearin a Rolex shirt

So if thats the streets, speakin ya dress don't hurt

You cowards do something before we do ours

I could write a Ja Rule album in two hours

Bleedin dead on ya back, have ya pockets flat like Federal Tax and

put ya head on the rack

I'm so bad, the only thing good is death

And L.A. G Unit posted and shook left, (ha, bitch!)

I'm from Detroit with the hottest and hollas

Niggaz like 'yall garbage, don't even bother', (haha)

Plus ya overweight and gangstas is maddening

50 made Wanksta and the definition of wanksta is AINT TOUGH

With pictures of Ja in a bra with a paint brush, paintin his war marks

I'm losin my patience

It ain't just D12 and Obie, homey, cancel ya shows and show respect

like ya know me, (hehe)

Say Halie's name again, I'm takin' a jet

911 style: to ya face to ya chest

911 style: to ya face to ya chest

It's over, nigga, gettin wet on the set, BLAU!!!

[Hook: x2]

[Outro:]

Haha!

I ain't even talkin no more!

I can't believe my nig can write yo whole ass out, nigga!

Whatcha talkin about 'that we gave ya the proof!'

You scared to come in that club, nigga!

You ain't got shit!

I'ma tell you like this: Black Child, Chris Gotti, I'm on that ass!

Cmon! See! You niggaz wanna be street niggaz!

Who would you wanna recruit?

Cause I'ma murd' all you soldiers and recruit ya bosses when this over!

Big Proof! D12! Only a one sixty-three!

I left out with scratches, nigga!

Wait till y'all niggaz come to the D!

Yeah, I'm goin to New York! I just love Summer Jams!

I'll be back fuckin with ya bitch!

A'yo, Cookie Monster: come get me, nigga!

Old ass nigga! [laughs]

[beat stops]

Now don't make me write some real shit, nigga!

Thanks to Black Child for correcting these lyrics

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