What the science behind that son? (I don't know) You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin (uh-huh) You wanna hear it? I make it speak (WHAT?) Know what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh)
#Dmx and the lox songs skin#
Like I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin upĭrag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin upĭrag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em well Raised in the wrong era, with no guidanceĭrag's fire so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'em No parents, tale from my horror's no morals Make niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got em noddin offĪll I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol Me the Security? Protectin my body? I let my shotty guard It's Jada (mwwaa) responsible for breakin your heart (uh)įor some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats (uh)įind your man dead in the trunk of a car (uh) (uh)Īll types of burners, even snub glocks (uh) If I say so myself, it's a wonderful threeīe in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox Who want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P? Y'all use beats for help we help the beats Streets help niggaz niggaz don't help the streets Til I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease I'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound niggaīounty hunt your whole crew til my bullets go through, WHAT?Īll I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quickĪ town where money is coming, eighty bricksīreak 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip I'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin change when I dieįrom rappin or tellin some cat to reach for the sky You see the pain in my eye? Nigga, the flame in my eye? Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin to you I'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chairĪnd it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a songĬheck my car, I don't care, I don't play fair My dough too long, nowadays, my flow too strong Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard No pussy gettin niggaz tryin to cuff the God I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is coolĪnd I hate cops, cause most y'all was dicks in school You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O Niggaz think they a thug, then thug to death (uh-huh)Ĭause the P gonna squeeze 'til no slugs is left (what) I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubble My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time I ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the skyĪsk God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to die I don't give a fuck, never have, never will I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill The Lox/Drag-Onīitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck
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