Edit Lyric - Lyricshot
Feature Note:
After successfully editing the lyric, we will review your submission. The review process may take up to one week.
Current Song
Ryde or Die, Bitch (feat. Drag-On & Eve)
The LOX
Your Name
*
Lyric Content
*
Yo if gon' sleep on somethin, might as well be a bed And if you gon' crack a mother****er, might as well be a head Cause if you targettin the l.o.x. you might as as well target a box That you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks Cause i think not, i pop shots, i double what y'all got Ya hotshots aint got blocks, ?llabuta? muchacha From the days in school, now a mother****ing rule And i could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool That's how ice be, i'm priceless, the iciest And i dont gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest My bullets thump when i'm laced in some fly shit, punk The baby nine be on the daily, aint no poppin a trunk But if i pop the trunk, its to hand you a rag So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my jag Must i brag? my mother****ing paid for, yours tagged And every mother****er you grabbed, Sheek bend em back [jadakiss] Ayo i hope you aint tongue-kissin your spouse Cause i be ****ing her in the mouth Type of mother****er buck at your house Too slick, means she be suckin my mother****ing And before you know it, i'ma have her stuffin my bricks Jada, if i kiss you now, you'll die later I been nice since mother****ers was watchin movies on beta Ready to clap, everybody givin me gats Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the traps You listen to y'all mother****ing, then listen to our mother****ing Ain't nuttin y'all mother****as could do but gossip That's the reason now y'all mother****as ain't got shit Cause everytime i turn around y'all on the l.o.x. mother****er Mother****ers thats narrow, i just smack em wit the barrel Give it to em at the light, like kane's cousin abel [styles] **** you and your son, y'all low wit the scum Show me the money, i'll show you a gun, mother****er Sp'll spin the corner while you prolly within I clap you, i clap him, and thats rule number one Suckin my mother****ing, and i dont give a **** what you spit Who you are, where you from, and who the **** you can get Cause i sell records, plus i got a jail record Y'all mother****as ain't sayin shit until y'all bare weapons And even when you dead, you can still ****ing get it A mother****er that'll smack ya, ****ing around and clap ya Styles p., your favorite rapper's favorite rapper [eve] Aint no surprise mother****as, only ****in wit recognized ****as Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies ****as No tops, take em in all shape and size ****as No lie, prefer them ready do or die ****as What? what you want? cutey starin at me like "damn, where you from?" You be comin at me like "can i get some?" Lick your lips for this brown sugar Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, til i cum, uhhh -chorus- [drag-on] I be the d-r, a-g, dash o-n, slash often comma, burnin ****sz often They call me drag-on, i'm hot scorchin Keep the block roastin light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastin In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin Realizin, every guy i'll fry or dead rowdy I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty Cause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry or catch one early You wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of ****shit you on? You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits on Cause i'm comin through wit a yukon black tinted wit gats in it Catch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the sack in it But only half of it, cause y'all like half-ass dude And we are one whole, and y'all mother****as is one slash two My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen? You'll catch a hell of a backdraft cause my fire retirin, aight then [dmx] Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water Everyday i show another how a lover slaughter Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges Taxin businessmen for stocks over lunches Wit these, i shoot the breeze, and extort Enough keys from the cuban, to build a ****ing fort Caught up in somethin that i cant control Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's role Catch bodies like a cold, and i stay slick so face it Make me chase it, i take your life and erase it Wasted, in the ****ing streets cause it ain't worth ****shit The undertaker take your ass unbder the earth quick, I love money, but the scrambles hot So i snatch up my man and the gamblin spot Twenty grand is got, when mother****as shot, one **** less What used to be his chest is now a mess under his mother****in vest
Minimum 10 characters required
Submit Lyric Edit
Return to Lyric Page