Down Bottom

Drag On

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    Juve] Mmmm hmmmmm
    [Drag] Ha ha hah

    Oh! Damn, now bop to this
    Yeah, uhh, uhh, y'all know what this is (flame on)
    Juvenile, Drag-On (flame on)
    And now.. Swizz Swizz Beats, yea!

    [Drag-On]
    Me and my niggas done licked shots, even done hit cops
    Betcha niggas can't wait til my shit drop
    Treat you like your momma, give your lip a pop
    Nigga you don't want my clip to drop
    Cuz that means I'm empty, and you're full of it
    Check what the bullet did
    Missiles gonna hit you get you, rip through tissue
    Shoot another rhyme just cuz I missed you
    I make plus cash, you little niggas can't fuck wit Drag
    Got the chain out, so his muscle grabs
    Nigga fuck that, you better bust back
    'Fore your monkey-ass land where the dust at
    Ride like the girl but you can't trust cash
    Spit line of fire and he can't touch black
    All you can do is cuss back
    In your weak raps bout how you bust gats
    Nigga we don't need that, I don't care about your feedback
    Y'all niggaz don't feed Drag
    Till a motherfucker pull out, bust a bullet out
    In the safe house, nigga where the keys at
    Nigga where the stash at, nigga where the weed at
    Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger
    Matter fact where the ass at, cause I got the "Rough Rider"
    And I ain't talkin' bout my niggaz
    Cuz nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
    And when you feel your nose crack
    That mean I broke that, I fill a po'-po' wit a flame thrower
    like I told yo' befo' ya know umm - you can't handle
    You can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
    And who that nigga Ruff Rydin, Drag-On
    Y'all niggas and Southsiders come on

    Hook: Drag-On + Various (2x)

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    Do y'all niggas bust y'all guns?
    (Hell yeah we bust our guns!!)
    Do y'all fuck em til they cum?
    (Damn right we make em cum!!)
    It's for the North (HEY) South (HEY)
    East (HEY) West (HEY)
    Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggas who ride the best

    [Juvenile]
    In the late night, we be cockin' nine givin' em stage fright
    Your head might explode when I bust with the lead pipe
    Now say it right, Juvenile, he tight, stay hype, now page Mike
    And make sure he got all the yeah aight?
    I'm tired of these niggas, be thinkin' that you usin' me
    Runnin' with them petty ass niggas lookin' like fools to me
    I'm workin' with some change yeah
    And ain't afraid to put fifty up on your brains yeah
    You 'bout warrin' over your people, I'm the same yeah
    Look, I'ma have someone sayin' that's the shame yeah
    But if them people come they ain't gon' give no names yeah
    Play with the number one stunna, don't play no games yeah
    Come outside and see nothin' but down boys and bricks
    Them ghetto boys strapped with cannons tryin' to knock off your shit
    You stanky bitch, I'll ruff ryde your ass then cash in for money
    Juven ain't gettin' nuthin, ha ha ha, that shit is funny

    Hook (2x)

    [Drag-On]
    When my niggas get knocked we gon' bail them out
    When it come to my gun my shells is out
    You better get the message, cuz I done mailed it out
    That I'ma bang it like a hammer and I'ma nail the South
    East, West, and write letters for my niggas up North
    My guns made in China, so you better dust off
    Comin' to getcha, you gon' bleed ketchup, I always got cheddar
    I never ass bet ya, and I won't even sweat ya
    You won't roll four and better
    My dough is never low, but if Drag is down on his last
    I'ma reach in my sweater, bet my Baretta
    Make a nigga feel the heat in the cold weather
    Can't stand a nigga hype, throw me his bitch
    Bitch come to my shit, you betta come get her
    Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
    Y'all make me so tired
    Y'all niggas still rappin' like you don't know my flow is fire
    And y'all ain't got ya suits, ain't got ya boots
    Probably got a gun that ain't never shoot
    When we come you better hope they don't name you
    Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
    Don't try to be me cause I ain't you
    'Fore I have your spirit with the angels
    My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
    Wanna fuck? Watch out she'll bang you
    Cuz I taught her well, y'all playas better haul to hell
    But you niggas couldn't borrow a belt
    Whoever wit you is goin to jail
    Do you niggaz bust your guns? Oh you ain't bustin none, huh?
    You wanna fuck em till they cum, huh?
    Drag-On, Juvenile, Double R, what you want huh?

    Hook (4x)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Kaseem Dean, Mel Smalls y T. Grey

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