[Intro: DJ Young Mase]
I go by the name of DJ Young Mase
D12 representor
Good to be back
But this time, I brought fourteen friends
Matter of fact, fourteen emcees!

[Verse 1: Fatt Father]
Well what do ya know? Fatt Father done showed up
Break out the blunts and a couple boxes of doughnuts
No time for stunts, I'm one militant grown up
Drunk, willing to hold up chumps to get exposure
Fat Michigan soldier, cats itchin’ to fold ya
Trapped in this ridiculous culture, fuck Oprah
No hope, my brain is broke, I'm bipolar
You microwave shit, I pop tarts with the toaster
(3Six!)

[Verse 2: 3Six]
Beef with the beef, guarantee the whole crew will ride
Hang you, make your homicide look like suicide
So n***a, you decide
Either you run with the squad, or you can keep playing God and get crucified
Use the nine, I don't ride when it's Valentine
Send you to the angels like you been traded to Anaheim
Bring the caskets out whenever I'm spazzing out
To find you in the woods somewhere, like [?]
(Shakia Snow!)
[Verse 3: Shakia Snow]
Body bag ‘em, toe-tag ‘em
Lyrically, I beat these beats up like a Magnum (Get ‘em)
You getting fucked tonight, you better grab something
Fuck boy, I can hire you to go bag something
My money long, I don't even need a bank account
Big bank take your little bank, what your bank about?
Mine read whole numbers plus six zeroes
I be turning sixteens into a pocket full of Euros
(Kid Vishis!)

[Verse 4: Kid Vishis]
Yeah, Kid Vishis the Prince, sickest in Michigan since
I've been spittin’, rippin’ n***as is a tradition
I spaz, I can box, but I ain’t jabbin’
I’ma pop his light bulb like a good thought gone bad
Then get his chick, give her the hit stick like Madden
Fly as Aladdin, higher than Saturn with stilts
Every time I hit your white bitch twat, I get a gift
Call that shit my Cracker Jack box
(Shim E. Bango!)

[Verse 5: Shim E. Bango]
Shim Bang’, F.K., the boy, it’s me
My goal is to be as high as Charlie Sheen
It’s hard to take MCs serious on screen
When they prancin’, dancin’ harder than Ben Vereen
Ill skills, I spill fo' real
One shot put him in the chair like, “Chill”
I’m in the sky rollin’ up ‘cause he be like, “Blill”
I know your momma won’t but yo' main bitch [?]
[Verse 6: T. Dot]
I’m a drug mover and a rider, big wheel Blata
Beef like Kobe, I’m the shooter and the driver (T. Dot!)
Shoot ‘till you see straight through your marauda
Then slide off feelin’ like Hakuna Matata
I don’t have lady drama
Stick her with seven pounds, six ounces like baby mama, .380 llama
Yeah I even got one wit’ me, ‘cause I ain’t tryna let ‘em do me like they [?]
(Let’s go Beez!)

[Verse 7: Beez]
I’m blowin’ ganja smoke, packin’ all kinds of toast
That’ll make you change your lifestyle like the condom broke
Get rid of work, I’m on the turf move slabs often
I’ll push your shit back like a bad barber
I lines ‘em up well, aim sharp Steve Harvey
I’m Cheech and Chong, blowin’ hong like three Marleys
I know they hate me
I ain’t in low definition so I’ma be the first to do murders in HD

[Verse 8: Reddbone]
(Reddbone!) Who the fuck is she?
The [?] of these wolves, is that bitch a beast?
I eat the weak, chew ‘em up, floss my teeth
You hoes is sweet, Willy Wonka [?]
Yo, regurgitate ya, [?] low like Terminator
Stomp rat bitches like roaches, exterminata
Wig split up, kush hit a [?]
A rhyme spitta, you want it? N***as can come hither
(Seven the General!)
[Verse 9: Seven the General]
Ugh, guess who’s next to bat?
The Warith Dean Fard Muhammad of the beans and crack
OC’s, stick weed, coke, speed and smack
Low speed, no keys in an egregious Lac
Look, filipicus bone, fallopian tube
That’s one to the face and one to the boob, no interlude
I’m, a regular dude with metals and jewels
The Veteran, General on you letterman noobs
(Korona!)

[Verse 10: Miz Korona]
It’s Korona, the sixteen queen, spit sick things, six sixteen
Since I split sixteen, I’ll use eight to show you I’m a problem
If X marks the spot hand me the problem now
‘Cause I ain’t movin’, it’s gruelin’ how I murder beats
You must be deaf, if you n***as ain’t heard of me
Detroit’s most wanted, the queen, head honcho
Bitch get out of line I’m puttin’ hoes [?]
(Mae Day, come on!)

[Verse 11: Mae Day]
These n***as ballin’ [?] all them babies
You ain’t in my league, JV, maybe, I NBA in HD
DOAO break beats, break bread, lay cheese
On a n***a head like he [?]
Stay clean, not a speck of dust on me
Flow so cold could ride a Zamboni on it
My green yawnin’, meanin’ the money stretchin’, good morning
And this ain’t Egypt, dethrone you n***as
(Moe Dirdee!)

[Verse 12: Moe Dirdee]
I don’t answer questions, I ask ‘em
Came from the bottom, just ask ‘em, ask ‘em
My name’s Moe Dirdee, what you know about me?
What you know about work? Beef come, I’ma squirt
Chief blunts got purp, boat loads of hoes with throat action
Sniper rifle, thirty thirty, bolt action
Moe knows pros from zones
I’m runnin’ through the green till I’m retired, vault Jacksons

[Verse 13: Chacity]
Illest in the city, I’m your number one draft pick (Chacity!)
And most them bitches actin’ like they never had shit
A1 and them hoes a C, average
Hand ware, like tags on a mattress
I hit the track with more crack than B Mo
Your rhymes foul, you don’t even get a free throw
Everybody might dig ya, but me know
Put the Tommy gun to him, bleed slow
(Calicoe!)

[Verse 14: Calicoe]
These rap n***as a disappointment
This shit I got stick like tats, so get your ointment
The shit I got fire, it probably could keep your joint lit
My gun’s pointin’ like the refs ended the coin flip
It’s Calicoe, if you don’t know me better check the net
The only young n***a to stand out when he next to vets
Disrespect? You can get your whole section wet
When shit shakin’, n***as disappearin’, Etch A Sketch

[Outro: DJ Young Mase]
Damn!
There you have it, fourteen emcees
D12, Young Mase!
You know what time it is, pay attention!
We back muthafuckas!
Shady Records!