DMX: D-X-L

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DMX

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DMX: D-X-L

[Styles P]Holiday StylesBitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neckif I ain't gettin proper respectI don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grillI don't give a fuck, never have, never willIf it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to dieI ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the skyAsk God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pieWe all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of timeMy niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimesHundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubbleBrand new nine, and an eight in a bubbleI put sixteen above ya neck, I love my setNiggaz 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 OYou think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast[Sheik]Yo, aiyyo, aiyyoI say what I want, fuck what y'all think is coolAnd I hate cops, cause most y'all was dicks in schoolNo pussy gettin niggaz tryin to cuff the GodPlay Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hardMy dough too long, nowadays, my flow too strongWhat y'all make in a year, I kick that for a songCheck my car, I don't care, I don't play fairKeep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chairAnd it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hearI'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crewSmall yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin to youYou 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 diefrom rappin or tellin some cat to reach for the skyI'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound niggaBounty hunt your whole crew til my bullets go through, WHAT?[Jadakiss]Yo, yo, yo, yoAll I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quickA nice house with five rooms, maybe sixA town where money is coming, eighty bricksBreak 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flipBet you never even felt the heattil I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the greaseStreets help niggaz; niggaz don't help the streetsY'all use beats for help; we help the beatsWho want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P?If I say so myself, it's a wonderful threeBe in the hood with all your jewels in the gloveboxSame 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 streetsFor some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hardMe the Security? Protectin my body? I let my shotty guardPut chill pills in brains, bullets like TylenolMake niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got em noddin offAnd take casket naps, fuck thatYou shoulda never let this bastard rapAll I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkelNo parents, tale from my horror's no moralsRaised in the wrong era, with no guidanceSo you dyin? It's no problem, no lyinDrag's fire; so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'emDrag done ate your foodLike I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin upDrag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin upDrag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em wellI don't brag I let the streets tellPo'-po' now you see he fell[DMX] {*overlapping last line*}Uh, uh, now you motherfuckersknow what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh)Y'all bitches fear it cause you weakYou 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 walkinI 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 thatNow don't act, cause actin might get you rollinwith 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 niggazTalkin reckless behind your back, them kiss ass niggaz (uh)From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tightLet them cats spit that weak shit (What!)I'm DOG FOR LIFE! NIGGA![Styles] (Sheek)They gon' need extra guns and extar 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)
Autor tekstu: nieznany
Data dodania: 2011-02-22

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