|
Drag-On - Get It Right lyrics
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 |
|
Last added lyrics |
---|
Christmas Fantasy by Anita Baker |
Big Dog Daddy by Toby Keith |
Version by Mark Ronson |
Kina by Kina |
Lovers' Requiem by I Am Ghost |