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DMX feat. JAY-Z feat. L.O.X. – Blackout

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исполнитель DMX feat. JAY-Z feat. L.O.X.

правообладатель RAL

жанр Рэп

длительность 04:53

размер 11.21 MB

битрейт 320 kbps

загружено Universal Music Group

Jay! Fuck that This is it right here, baby! You know what it is Yo, I used to have bad luck Now you might see me in a Jag truck Mad stuck, either with a dime or a bad duck Double-R tee with the matching bandanna .38-snub, blue steel with no hammer And I see y'all niggas tryna glance at the 'Kiss 'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon And you know I'm still writing the mean, lighting the green I need the bucket, even though I look, right in the beam Judge find out it's my team, he boost they bails Niggas throw us on they album, try to boost they sales We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label 'Cause them rednecks up in the mountains'll try to slay you They call me raspy, tell you what I want you to know Fuck what you ask me, you probably don't want me to blow I got a lot of horsepower so I'm able to skip Usually a good nigga, even though I'm able to flip You pay 30 for the 'Kiss (Uh-huh) a 100 for The L.O.X. (Yeah) And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop Whatever's in the bank is my bet, a z-bull's my pet And you can bet he'll get the legs and the neck Uh-huh, yeah, aiyyo Yo, when my gun bust, send niggas to the fish like Swanson New York's youngest Bumpy Johnson, I put fear in y'all heads Sheek Louch, type of nigga gasoline y'all beds And that's warning, if you all alive in the mornin', that's fine Now I suggest you hit the block and get what's rightfully mine I want PC, see me? Tuck in your chains I got niggas my pops' age that lifestyle ain't changed It's like, wake up, move a brick, half of it slow Make car money, check with Sheek, go fuck with a ho (ha!) I rock a waist length mink, do-rag under my fitted (Style on these niggas!) And I don't even want waves, Timbs be halfway new (Huh?) That's Sheek in the dress-up club cause I don't fuck with shoes And for my nigga's life, I swear to the Bible, let it be told I put thirty in your head, all in the same hole 'Cause we got the same goal, and you try and tamper with mine? Don't make me motherfuckin' leave you with some shit in your spine Fuck with me, you be a "was nigga": "Nigga WAS dope" "Nigga WAS gettin money" 'fore I extorted your coke 'Ju crazy? Aiyyo, catch me with a .38, box and shells In a '98 Lincoln, eating pasta shells Order to go, always got a box of Ls Blow, stay on the low, get a Heine and swig I'm Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig I pop shit 'cause I'm the second-best; the first was B.I.G Y'all niggas is sonned out, let me speak to your father 'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver If I don't like a nigga, I don't even be bothered I spit, I'm just a crooked nigga going legit You hold your nine if you holding a brick, common sense Fed drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent L.O.X. get respect like Sonny from Bronx Tale Us and DMX: the Ruff Ryder cartel Thirsty to live, or y'all niggas eager to die? I tell all my niggas ride, you won't leave with a dime Motherfucker! Yeah, yeah, I'm a monster I sleep whole winters; wake up and spit summers Ghetto nigga, putting up Will Smith numbers (Ugh!) Surrounded by Sixes and Hummers, bitches among us Trying not to let this bullshit become us It started from hunger, 'til it all went insane Now bitches notice the chains now that I hit my number The chickens I twisted (Ugh) see the digits unlisted (Yeah) The beeper done changed You dead, bitch; the Reaper done came I suggest niggas stop speakin my name 'Cause trust me, y'all can still feel the heat in the rain I keep creeping, streets keep watching, I keep popping Niggas is hotheads and the bullets is heat-seeking Jay flow for pesos; chase hoes, NOT I just circle 'round the block in a drop Tell 'em jump through the top (Uh-huh) Where the sun roof used to be I can see y'all not used to me Nigga flows like none other (Ugh!) I'm the meanest, toughest Don Dada to gun-butt ya You the type that bust a lot of shots and none touch ya (Fuck) I'm the type that get excited, when the gun touch ya Motherfuckers! Ugh Y'all niggas bout to witness a dynasty like no other Uh uh-uh uh-uh Uh-huh-uh-huh uh, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... I'm headed nowhere fast (Ugh), runnin' in place, gat in my waist Niggas wanted a taste, but wouldn't come to my face (Ugh) So what that mean? You cats is playin' games again So now what I do? Start namin' names again (WHAT!) All you motherfuckers know that I speak from the heart (UH!) Play like you don't know, L.O.X. is gon' bark We can take it there, but to make it fair, get some more niggas Styles, Sheek, Jay... We comin' with like four niggas (AIGHT!) Y'all niggas best to stop playin' It'll be the ones you forgotten about That'll get you shot in your mouth ARF! ARF! Got my dogs covered (UH!) Plus it's all gravy, like chicken when it's smothered (WHAT!) It's Dark, and I LOVE IT! (UH!) Get him, boy, let him loose (C'MON!) You want it with the dog or the gun? Let him choose (C'MON!)
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