Twisted Heat Lyrics - Ryde Or Die: Vol.2 - Dmx

We know y'all out to drink 'til y'all throw up 

We know y'all sittin' on 20's 

We know y'all reppin' your hood 

But how many y'all kill 

Bounce that ass, load them cribs 

Let me see the mobbin' niggaz that talk shit 

While these muthatfuckaz be scummy 

And'll go for the money 

Ready to ride when they holdin' a lick 

Thugs with the Chevy's, thugs with the trucks 

The real gun runner never run when he bust 

Henny and he mobs in the front, smoke a 'dro blunt 

Sippin' with a fifty sack under the nuts 

Hoes with ass and no gut 

Let me see you jiggle it from side to side 

Niggaz if it's static then pass me the strap 

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Gonna ride 'til my ride 

All the hoes that'll freaky niggaz, with the 'fedi 

Let's get buck up in the club 

And all my soldiers, fall out, gangstas, mob up 

All the homeys on the block 

Anny up on the fin and let's go get us a sack 

Serve too, we got a custom 'Lac, hustlin' pack 

Til a nigga bust, they bustin' back 

Guys that'll roll them dice and win 

Girls with 'fits that show the skin 

Real niggaz mind your best friend at the pen 

Real hoes let your best friend know about men 

'Cause I be squeezin' ass 

And'll make a full glass disappear like a genie 

Move to the LOX and Beanie 

While them hoes backin' that thang up on my weenie 

It's like no nigga in the world could see me 

When I Ruff Ryde with Drag-On 

Rollin' up big babies in a Mercedes 

If you want herb we got bombs 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz 

For the ones who smoke pot, do stick ups and ball in our hood 

What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista? 

(Wanna kill me?) 

Gangsta, let's ride, hustla feel me 

By know everybody should know, that the kid spit tight 

And this kid spit fire light 

And the bitch I don' fucked like last night 

I don't give a fuck 'bout a 2 and a half mic 

'Cause the only muthafuckin' magazine that I read 

Is when I buy my gun from it 

How many bullets you could digest in that one stomach? 

I suggest y'all run from it 

And the click-click from the Calico, I gotta go 

Make it, pimp, with a lot of hoes 

I'm the same muthafucka that's countin' that dough 

Cookin' that coke to a pot of gold 

'Cause my rainbow is every color top that crackhead cop 

I don't care I gotta cap me a cop 

As long as I got enough money to cop me 

A drop, pop enough glocks 

Drag, open up boots by watchin' co-op's in convo at condos 

Keep the heat up in jeeps, in case y'all creep upon me 

I run up on y'all in a cab with a meter on me 

And the only on leavin' is me 

And the only one bleedin' is you, tryin' to breeze with me 

All the Roc is E N Y C E in the NYC with the white T 

All I really do is argue 

Double F, R Y D E, D R A G, to the dash O N 

Catch me, smokin' potent, bet it leave y'all, niggaz soakin' 

With your insides open 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Hold the fuck up, slow down 

Drag, Twista, listen up 

These muthafuckaz don't know what's real out here 

(They damn sure don't) 

This is volume 2 

(Volume 2) 

Nigga, so, get ignorant 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Twista 

(Drag-On) 

Whether murder or bouncy beat, my flow be philosophical 

Smokin' on tropical, achievin' all missions impossible 

When I up the block at you, I'ma pop at you 

If your momma cry there's nothin' I could do 

Should not've fucked with Mr. Illogical 

When I'm in to clubbin', clubbin', shake it, don't you break it 

You booty to shapey, can't take it, wanna see you naked 

I don' drunk a boo muthafucka so you know I'm lit up 

Everybody get up, spin witha a Twista, it's a stick up 

This where the shit pick up, let me load this clip up 

Lust pour me some liquor, Flame-On and Twista 

Let's see if you murdered who'll miss ya 

I love the dirty South that's why I gotta dirty mouth that'll burn you out 

Tell your bitch I got a dick that'll turn her out 

Especially when I tell her turn around, I don' hurt her now 

Shit'll come back and I think it's time to get murdered now 

I'm tired of silly clowns, spittin' out weak shit, sound like my shit 

You gon' make me pull a all nighter 

Standin' in front of your crib with that gasoline and that lighter 

Now hit, we won't miss ya, Drag-On and Twista 

(Puttin' it on 'em)