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Drag-On

Belly soundtrack

  rap  hip-hop  ruff ryders  new york  hardcore rap
483 3 часа назад

Текст песни Drag-On - Belly soundtrack

Drag-On - Belly soundtrack слова песни

(*whispered*) Strike the matchFlame-on motherfuckersMy gun, I aim lowerMy words is a flame throwerWatch me end yall with somthing, that`ll make your skin crawlIm only yae` tall, kay y`all? But I lay down lawAnd I lay down y`all, so y`all better praise(a) the lordNo room to breath. Knowin shhAnd the shit I spit be red and orangeAnd yall going to have to call it in like bomb threatsCuz I`m fire but, when I wet yall your gonna be drenchedLaid up with ten, cause when I pull it outI pull in shouts like BLOW!Damn that shit was loud! See the crowd?They all seek cover when they see that black rubberBecause this cat here, got no sisters or no brothersIt was one aloneCovered with shellack ready to die blackLets talk about guns, and how y`all don`t bust noneThease niggas here, y`all doing lest busting lot of duckingMaybe a lot of fucking, cause all y`all bust is nutsJust give me room, nobody move, or yall gonna hear the boomIf yall can get it on, then we can get it onWe all can get it on... (x3)FLAME-ON MUTHERFUCKERS(x2)Ya niggaz packin gats and stones, frontin on your man`s phoneYa niggaz missed the ride, cause this nigga make ya moanCause when I pull out its like AIDS, I make sure its full blownAnd before the grief (kiss kiss), kiss him on both cheeksLet him think theres peaceAnd give him somthing to rememberCorpse stiff, hands cold, and body temperature DecemberSneakers off, closed casket, blew his cheek offBy the way be careful who you speak ofCuz I by the wall in the back, guaranteed and all thatWhile y`all in all blackWhen I leave the place, drop the reef, in his moms lapMotherfuckers... soon as y`all think your beef is sweetI`m gonna lay in the streets and let y`all niggaz throw quarters on meCan you spare change for your life?Change for what? Thats when I pop upWith somthing long, and put somthing in his ass like a thongI dont know what you thoughtI`m gonna do you like I do a NewportIn sec-onds kid, smoke it to Brownsville and step on itHookI`m straigh housing shitYeah, ya niggas is ballersBut I`m the nigga bouncin` itif Ruff Ryders is announcing itYa know we get down for it, want every ounce of itI don`t care if it`s counterfeit, since this is musichow we sound with it?Dont forget, we bust rhymes for itskip town for it, get under the ground for itSo nigga, dont ignore itUnless your ass is deafthis is gonna be your last breathYour last S. and S. checkwith your hands crossed over your chestI dont give a fuckwhat ever I gotta take care, I get it doneIf its money, I owe nobodyExcept a few hot onesAnd if your 18 and under, this here`s your last testAnd I`m gonna teach you in the class with the past tense, lil bastardsC is for class or for casket. So get your books upAnd if your doe is low, that C better mean for Cook UpDont tell me that you shook upYou know I keep my stacks tallSo that you gotta look up, and maybe we can hook upBut you know what? Then you woke upSome body smoked you smoke upYou know what that meanYou broke, and you `bout to get broke upHook (out)

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