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Drag On

Genres: Hip-Hop

D-x-l (hard White) Lyrics - Drag On

[Styles P] 

Holiday Styles 

Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck 

if I ain't gettin proper respect 

I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill 

I don't give a fuck, never have, never will 

If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to die 

I ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky 

Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie 

We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time 

My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes 

Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubble 

Brand new nine, and an eight in a bubble 

I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set 

Niggaz think they a thug, then thug to death (uh-huh) 

Cause the P gonna squeeze 'til no slugs is left (what) 

You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O 

You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast 

 

[Sheik] 

Yo, aiyyo, aiyyo 

I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is cool 

And I hate cops, cause most y'all was dicks in school 

No pussy gettin niggaz tryin to cuff the God 

Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard 

My dough too long, nowadays, my flow too strong 

What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a song 

Check my car, I don't care, I don't play fair 

Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chair 

And it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear 

I'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew 

Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin to you 

You see the pain in my eye? Nigga, the flame in my eye? 

I'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin change when I die 

from rappin or tellin some cat to reach for the sky 

I'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga 

Bounty hunt your whole crew til my bullets go through, WHAT? 

 

[Jadakiss] 

Yo, yo, yo, yo 

All I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quick 

A nice house with five rooms, maybe six 

A town where money is coming, eighty bricks 

Break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip 

Bet you never even felt the heat 

til I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease 

Streets help niggaz; niggaz don't help the streets 

Y'all use beats for help; we help the beats 

Who want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P? 

If I say so myself, it's a wonderful three 

Be in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox 

Same niggas that-a rob you love L.O.X. (uh) 

All types of burners, even snub glocks (uh) 

Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats (uh) 

Find your man dead in the trunk of a car (uh) 

It's Jada {*mwwaa*} responsible for breakin your heart (uh) 

Uh 

 

[Drag-On] 

Creep through the streets 

For some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard 

Me the Security? Protectin my body? I let my shotty guard 

Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol 

Make niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got em noddin off 

And take casket naps, fuck that 

You shoulda never let this bastard rap 

All I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel 

No parents, tale from my horror's no morals 

Raised in the wrong era, with no guidance 

So you dyin? It's no problem, no lyin 

Drag's fire; so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'em 

Drag done ate your food 

Like I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin up 

Drag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin up 

Drag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em well 

I don't brag I let the streets tell 

Po'-po' now you see he fell 

 

[DMX] {*overlapping last line*} 

Uh, uh, now you motherfuckers 

know what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh) 

Y'all bitches fear it cause you weak 

You wanna hear it? I make it speak (WHAT?) 

You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin (uh-huh) 

What the science behind that son? (I don't know) 

A lot of easy walkin 

I bust shit down (uh) got down (uh) kick down (uh) shot down (uh) 

Ain't tryin to talk about what I got now, but I got now (WHAT?) 

I ain't never sold a brick, I done stuck niggaz up (c'mon) 

And for talkin too much shit? I done fucked niggaz up (uh) 

It can get "Dark" for real, and I think you already know that (uh-huh) 

Well think about it with the brick in your hand before you throw that 

Now don't act, cause actin might get you rollin 

with what you ain't ready to handle (UHH) 

All that's left of your memory, is a candle (WOO!) 

It happens quick fast nigga, to bitch ass niggaz 

Talkin reckless behind your back, them kiss ass niggaz (uh) 

From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tight 

Let them cats spit that weak shit (What!) 

I'm DOG FOR LIFE! NIGGA! 

 

[Styles] (Sheek) 

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra jails and extra cops 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra chains and extra watches 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

 

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra jails and extra cops 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

They gon' need extra chains and extra watches 

(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde) 

Writer: , , ,

Copyright: Atv Music Publishing Llc, Warner, Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, Emi Music Publishing, Sony