Uh
|
Yeah, yeah, yeah
|
C'mon C'mon
|
What what what
|
C'mon (Come bitch)
|
C'mon C'mon
|
(Come bitch)
|
|
|
When y'all niggas run on my block
|
You gon get it
|
And that bitch you tryin to pop (I done hit that)
|
I done hit it
|
You still tryin to find my style?
|
You gon get lost
|
And those that think they can touch
|
Gon get taught
|
Sure we can flow till my gun
|
Had to go off (blahhh)
|
I do a hundred in the wind
|
On the turnpike
|
All you hear is we-we-ween
|
That's a dirt bike
|
And you can put em up or shut em up
|
Cuz when we get em up we hit em up
|
Hoes ain't good enough
|
My fire's gonna make dust
|
Now who the one do the talkin? (who dat?)
|
Y'all niggas gonna split a coffin
|
You can call that 50/50
|
Break it down to the nitty-gritty (uh-huh)
|
Now what you see is
|
Whatcha gon get
|
That's .58, dead weight, chrome straight, your face
|
Now let me see ya get em up
|
Bob and weave back
|
Since when, a nigga be through his pack?
|
Now when it come down to my shit
|
Betta leave that
|
C'mon C'mon
|
|
[Chorus: Drag-On & Various- 2x's]:
|
|
Your hoe don't wanna be mine?
|
Better save your daughter
|
Your coke compared to mine
|
Is baking soda
|
Y'all niggas want a war?
|
Better send yo' soldiers
|
My life is on the line
|
For the New World Order
|
|
|
Soon I'm gonna flow over
|
(Like what?) Like water (C'mon)
|
When niggas be drownin
|
They look smaller
|
I don't give a fuck what they might call ya
|
It can be Moe or Cristal
|
I'll pour ya
|
I'm done with the hype shit
|
I keep a tight grip (my gun)
|
But only then (what's that?)
|
A bullet might slip
|
Growin up in these here streets
|
Is gritty
|
We don't do a lot of talkin
|
In this city
|
It's down to pap pap pap
|
No pity (my gun)
|
Then woo-woo woo-woo (police)
|
Go sirens
|
While Drag-dash-On
|
Is hidin
|
Cuz we don't do a lot of runnin
|
I keep firin
|
And as long as they payin
|
A few's dyin
|
I don't care if it's plastic or iron
|
It's like the money in my pocket
|
I'll fold ya
|
And if your niggas ain't tell you
|
I shoulda told ya
|
C'mon, C'mon
|
|
[Chorus 2x]
|
|
When my niggas swing this sawed off (blahhh)
|
Get ya shit blown off (uh-huh)
|
Cuz if y'all niggas looking for a fist fight
|
Shit, well not tonight
|
Cuz when we swing them things (lights out)
|
You gon see the light
|
I don't care if it's heaven or hell
|
They won't bite
|
Y'all niggas got beef with Drag-On?
|
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
|
Y'all niggas is gettin too close
|
Back up, back up, back up, back up, back up
|
Y'all niggas gonna make my gun go
|
Blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka, blacka!!
|
Ruff Ryder gonna make sure y'all don't
|
Come back
|
The only nigga that's allowed to come back
|
Is a nigga that smoke the crack
|
And when it come down to our G-stacks
|
We want that
|
Now let me see you count that (my money)
|
We don't want no ones back (my money)
|
Them tens and twenties
|
Is how I like to see my money
|
And I'ma run like I'm on hot sand (hot sand)
|
With my shoes off (hot shit)
|
Make sure nobody make a move
|
Till the crew's off
|
And I mean this game I wins
|
And you lost
|
And the only way they gonna catch me
|
Is on the cover of the new Source
|
C'mon C'mon
|
|
[Chorus 4x]
|
|
-----------------
|
C'mon C'mon
|
| Drag-on |
