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[Juve]Mmmm hmmmmm
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[Drag]Ha ha hah
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Oh! Damn, now bop to this
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Yeah, uhh, uhh, y'all know what this is (flame on)
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Juvenile, Drag-On (flame on)
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And now.. Swizz Swizz Beats, yea!
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[Drag-On]
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Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops
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Betcha niggaz can't wait til my shit drop
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Treat you like your momma, give you lip a pop
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Nigga you don't want my clip to drop
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Cause that means I'm empty, and you're full of it
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Check what the bullet did
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Missiles gonna hit you get you, rip through tissue
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Shoot another rhyme just cause I missed you
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I make plus cash, you little niggaz can't fuck wit Drag
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Got the chain out, so his muscle grabs
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Nigga fuck that, you better bust back
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'fore ya monkey-ass land where the dust at
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Ride like the girl but you can't trust cash
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Spit line of fire and he can't touch black
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All you can do is cuss back
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in your weak raps bout how you bust gats
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Nigga we don't need that, I don't care about your feedback
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Y'all niggaz don't feed Drag
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Til a motherfucker pull out, bust a bullet out
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in the safe house, nigga where the keys at
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Nigga where the stash at, nigga where the weed at
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Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger
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Matter fact where the ass at, cause I got the "Rough Rider"
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and I ain't talkin bout my niggaz
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Cause nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
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and when you feel your nose crack
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That mean I broke that, I fill a po'-po' wit a flame thrower
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like I told yo' befo' ya know umm - you can't handle
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You can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
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And who that nigga Ruff Rydin, Drag-On
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Y'all niggaz and Southsiders
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Chorus: Drag-On + Various (repeat 2X)
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Do y'all niggaz bust y'all guns?
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(Hell yeah we bust our guns!!)
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Do y'all fuck them til they cum?
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(Damn right we make them cum!!)
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It's for the North (HEY) South (HEY)
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East (HEY) West (HEY)
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Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggaz who ride the best
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[Juvenile]
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Hmmmm, hmmmmmmmm
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In the late night, we be cockin high and givin you stage fright
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Yo head might explode, when I bust with the lead pipe
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Now say it right, Juvenile, HE tight
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Stay hype, now page Mike and make sure he got all the yea, aight?
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I'm tired of you niggaz, be thinkin that you usin me
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Runnin with them petty-ass niggaz lookin like fools to me
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I'm workin wit some change aiy
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And aint afraid to put fifty up on ya brain yay
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You bout warrin over yo' people I'm the same yay
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Look, I'ma have somebody sayin that's the shame yay
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But if them people come they ain't gon' give no names yay
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Play with the number one stun'na don't play no games yay
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Come outside and see nothin but camouflage and bricks
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Them gather up boys strapped with cannons
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tryin to knock off yo' shit, you stanky bitch
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I'll Ruff Ryde your ass then, Cash in for Money
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Juven' ain't gettin nuttin ha ha hah that shit is funny
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Chorus
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[Drag-On]
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When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out
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When it come to my gun my shells is out
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You better get the message, cause I done mailed it out
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that I'ma bang it like a hammer and I'ma nail the South
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East West, and write letters for my niggaz up North
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My guns made in China, so you better dust off
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Comin to getcha, you gon' bleed ketchup, I always got cheddar
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I never ass bet ya, and I won't even sweat ya
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You won't roll four and better
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My dough is never low, but if Drag is down on his last
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I'ma reach in my sweater, bet my Baretta
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Make a nigga feel the heat in the cold weather
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Can't stand a nigga hype, throw me his bitch
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Bitch come to my shit, you betta come get her
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Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
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Y'all make me so tired
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Y'all niggaz still rappin like you don't know my flow is fire
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and y'all ain't got ya suits, ain't got ya boots
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Probably gotta gun that ain't never shoot
|
When we come you better hope they don't name you
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Cause like two sticks rubbin I'll flame you
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Don't try to be me cause I ain't you
|
'fore I have your spirit with the angels
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My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
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Wanna fuck? Watch out she'll bang you
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cause I taught her well, y'all players better haul to hell
|
But you niggaz couldn't borrow a |