HOOK: DMX
|
Drag-On, niggas act on
|
Messin wit the team it's gon be a sad song
|
X, will bring the day and the night
|
Cuz we get it right, get it right, get it right, spit it right
|
|
[DMX]
|
Moves is made, niggas is paid, that's just how it is
|
When my time is up I'ma be out but I'ma try to live
|
I'm eatin day by day, aint nothin sweet about it
|
Act like you don't know what I'm sayin then you read about it
|
Built for war like a armadillo
|
Smokin yo' ass put two through the pilllow
|
Hear my shit through windows
|
Manic depressive and my head hurts
|
Soon as the dead thirst I'll whet him first
|
Now wait a minute it gets worse
|
I can't control what I own inside
|
So I take it out on the soul of that kid that died
|
Spit fire, cross niggas like barbecues
|
Mobbin crews, strippin niggas, robbin crews
|
And put him speechless, when I made him eat this
|
Hollow tip and you can follow grip
|
You be like Kim and aint gon swallow shit
|
Don't know the half, couldn't know the math
|
To understand the wrath of a man split in half
|
But he got what he wanted, shot for three hundred
|
Shit is tight and a nigga that's right gots to run it
|
Aint no question, that's how I get down
|
Niggas know gimme yo' dough and yo' hoe, and here take these fo'
|
Hot things I got things that make niggas spin
|
Put niggas in the wind, where you never see niggas again
|
Bless a nigga with fifties the thin types
|
And a straight blast that'll put pinstripes across your windpipe
|
|
HOOK 2X
|
|
[Drag-On]
|
Drag opposite water more than a spot order
|
My flows cause fire then bring holes
|
Takes more than a pump to out this little punk
|
'less that pump is a twelve, and I get popped, still I burn to hell
|
Call the police and whatever they don't seize
|
And put in they mouth, and catch freeze, tell em throw Drag some keys
|
Don't care how many oyeas I gotta make believe
|
If you nervous, you don't deserve it poppi please
|
Cats stealin gats y'all probably will get hit
|
Well I'm the future let's see y'all copy this, stopping this
|
Since a tiny kid like, "mommy buy me this"
|
Since she always told me no, started stealin on some grimy shit
|
Like look at that, now look at that slide it in my bookbag
|
I'm who, parents point they fingers at, "get from that hoodrat"
|
And put it back, fuck tough, while y'all cook crack
|
I'm cocaine, throw me in the pot, I rise to the top
|
With your 5.0, go 'head, look ma, I got four more pegs
|
Stil put them holes in yo' head, til it's mushy like dough bread
|
Cuz that vest only protects that chest
|
And if I decide to get ice, don't get to fascinated
|
Or it's my bullet, your brain, mashed potatoes
|
Double R got me comin hard on you haters
|
Cuz we the streets black and y'all belong beneath that
|
|
HOOK 2X
|
|
-----------------
|
Get It Right
|
Drag-On |