Oil can harry

Eminem

[Intro:] 
Dirty Harry is dead [x2] 
Now witness the grudge from his son, Oil Can Harry 

[Proof:] 
My life is trapped in these lines, that's why I'm packin' these nines 
I gotta rap I ain't gone, that's who's back on 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 
Naturally, I gotta focus 
On these bogus poachers, lookin' over my shoulder, we'll get it poppin' like (shoulder?) 
Hold up 
[Eminem:] (We nothin' but soldiers) 
Slow up 
[Eminem:] (This gun is loaded) 
Roll up 
[Eninem:] (They beef and we leavin' 'em coked up) 
The Slim say it I spray it, if he willin' I kill it 
We kill packs to get iller (?) y'all can feel it 
Got this gun on my wasteline, and hope we don't waste time 
Ja, man he can't take a punch and 50 can take nine 
We got School Craft here at the 7, 8, and text her 
I'm up in Holly, spendin' dollas, ain't feelin' no pressure 
Yes sir, your texture is bitch, betcha ya flinch 
When Proof shoot up they coop, and waste your whole clique 
Fuck it who's next on this shit, this is prefrence to bitch 
When you preface to stiffen slugs has atcha wit 
You'll be next to BIG, Pac is destiny kid 
Before ya lick ya pop, stop testin' me bitch 

[chorus:] 
Homie you think you're 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) 

[Proof:] 
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 bitch 
I'm a man, more I'm holdin' my ground 
To loadin' these rounds, at any call approachin' my ground 
I'm a kid but grimey, nothin' but killas 
And behind me, I'm a bullet 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' faggots and act as a rapper with platinum status, ya livin' flappin' 'em slappin' 'em backwards 
After these rappers' status 
To shadders, knowin' Proof and the matter is scatterd on all me 
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! 

[chorus] 

[Outro:] 
Yeah, Big Proof, Grown Man Shit, shoutout to Mark Hicks, Jimmy Neutron, Mario Skinny Boy Graphics, ya know what I'm sayin' 
1st Born, everyone up at Iron Fist, DJ Salam Wreck, let's go
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