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twisted heat - drag-on lyrics

[swizz beatz]
aowwwwwwwww!
we know y’all can drink ’til you throw up
we know y’all sittin’ on 20’s
we know y’all reppin’ your hood
but how many y’all k!ll!!!

[twista]
bounce that -ss, load them cribs
let me see the mobbin’ n-ggas that wanna talk sh-t
rowdy motherf-ckers that be sc-mmy and’ll go for the money
ready to ride when they rollin’ a l!ck
thugs with the chevy’s, thugs with the trucks
the real gun runner never run when he bust
henny and he mobs in the front, smoke a ‘dro blunt
sippin’ with a fifty sack under the nuts
hoes with -ss and no gut
let me see you jiggle it from side to side
n-ggas if it’s static, then p-ss me the strap
gonna ride ’til my ride
all the hoes that’ll freak n-ggas, with the ‘fedi
let’s get buck up in the club
and all my soldiers, fall out, gangstas, mob up
all the homies on the block, ante up on the fin
and let’s go get us a sack
serve til we got a custom ‘llac, hustlin’ packs
’til a n-gga bust, then we bustin’ back
guys that’ll roll them dice and win
girls with the ‘fits that show the skin
real n-ggas mind your best friend at the pen
real hoes let your best friend know about men
cause i be squeezin’ -ss
and’ll make a full gl-ss disappear like a genie
move to the lox and beanie
while them hoes backin’ that thang up on my weenie
it’s like no n-gga in the world could see me
when i ruff ryde with drag-on
rollin’ up big babies in a mercedes
if you want herb we got bombs

chorus: twista (drag-on) (2x)

gotta kick that sh-t for the fine b-tches and all my nugz
for the ones who smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
what do a n-gga say when he sees drag-on and twista (k!ll me)
gangsta (let’s ride), hustla (feel me)

[drag-on]
by know everybody should know, that the kid spit tight
and this kid spit fire light
and the b-tch i don’ f-cked like last night
i don’t give a f-ck ’bout a 2 and a half mic
cause the only motherfucfkin magazine that i read
is when i buy my gun from it
how many bullets you could digest in that one stomach
i suggest y’all run from it
and the cl!ck-cl!ck from the calico, i gotta go
make it pimp with a lot of hoes
i’m the same motherf-cker that’s countin’ that dough
cookin’ that c0ke to a pot of gold
cause my rainbow, is every color top that crackhead cop
i don’t care i gotta cap me a cop
as long as i got enough money to cop me a drop, pop enough glocks
drag open up dope spots and co-op’s in convo at condos
keep the heat up in jeeps, in case y’all creep up on me
i run up on y’all in a cab with a meter on me
and the only on leavin’ is me
and the only one bleedin’ is you, tryin’ to breeze with me
all i rock is e-n-y-c-e, in the nyc with the white t
all i really do is r-u
double f, r-y-d-e, d-r-a-g, to the dash o-n
catch me, smokin’ potent, bet i leave y’all, n-ggas soakin’
with your insides open

chorus: twista (drag-on) (2x)

[swizz beatz]
errrrrrr!!!!
hold the f-ck up! (slow down!)
drag, twista (listen up!)
these motherf-ckers don’t know what’s real out here
(they d-mn sure don’t)
this is volume 2 (volume 2)
n-gga, so, get ignorant!

chorus: twista (drag-on)

[twista]
whether murder or bouncy beat, my flow be philosophical
smokin’ on tropical, achievin’ all +missions impossible+
when i up the block at you, i’mma pop at you
if your momma cry there’s nothin’ i could do
should not’ve f-cked with mr. illogical
when i’m in to clubbin’, huggin’, shake it don’t you break it
your booty too sacred, can’t take it, wanna see you naked
i done drunk a blue motherf-cker, so you know i’m lit up
everybody get up, sweat for the twista, it’s a stick up

[drag-on]
this where the sh-t pick up, let me load this clip up
just pour me some liquor
flame-on and twista
let’s see if you murdered who’ll miss ya
i love the dirty south, that’s why i gotta dirty mouth
that’ll burn you out
tell your b-tch i got a d-ck that’ll turn her out
especially when i tell her turn around
i don’ hurt her now
sh-t’ll come back, and i think it’s time to get murdered now
i’m tired of silly clowns
spittin’ out weak sh-t, sound like me sh-t
you gon’ make me pull a all nighter
standin’ infront of your crib with that gasoline and that lighter
that way we won’t miss ya, drag-on and twista

(put it on ’em!)

- drag on lyrics

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