Drag-on - We All Can Get It On Lyrics
(whisper)strike the matchFlame-on mother*****ersMy gun, I aim lowerMy words is a flame throwerWatch me end yall with somthing,Thatll make your skin crawlIm only 8 tall, ok yall? but I lay down lawAnd I lay down yall, so yall better praise(a) the lordNo room to breath. knowin shhAnd the shit I spit be red and orangeAnd yall going to have to call it in like bomb threatsCuz Im fire but, when I wet yall your gonna be drenchedLaid up with ten, cause when I pull it outI pull in shouts like blow!Damn that shit was loud! see the crowd?They all seek cover when they see that black rubberBecause this cat here, got no sisters or no brothersIt was one aloneCovered with shellack ready to die blackLets talk about guns, and how yall dont bust noneThease niggas here, yall doing lest busting lot of duckingMaybe a lot of *****ing, cause all yall bust is nutsJust give me room, nobody move, or yall gonna hear the boomIf yall can get it on, then we can get it onWe all can get it on... (x3)Flame-on muther*****ers(x2)Ya niggaz packing gats and stonesFronting on your man clonesYa niggaz missed the ride, cause this nigga make ya moanCause when I pull out its like aids, I make sure its full blownAnd before the grief (kiss kiss), kiss him on both cheeksLet him think theres peaceAnd give him somthing to rememberCorpse stiff, hands cold, and body missing till decemberSneakers offClose casket, blew his cheek offBy the way be careful who you speak ofCuz I by the wall in the back, guaranteed and all thatWhile yall in all blackWhen I leave the place, drop the reef, in his moms lapMother*****ers...Soon as yall think your beef is sweetIm gonna lay in the streetsAnd let yall niggaz throw quarters on meCan you spare change for your life?Change for what? thats when I pop upWith somthing long, and put somthing in his ass like a thongI dont know what you thoughtIm gonna do you like I do a newportAnd step on kid, smoking him down till his head goneHookIm straigh housing shitYeah, ya niggas is ballersBut Im the nigga bouncin itIf ruff ryders is announcing itYa know we get down for it, want every ounce of itI dont care if you sellin it, this is musicHow we sound with it?Dont forget, we bust rhymes for itSkip town for it, get under the ground for itSo nigga, dont ignore itUnless your ass is deafThis is gonna be your last breathYour last s. and s. checkWith your hands crossed over your chestI dont give a *****What ever I gotta take care, I get it doneIf its money, I owe nobodyExcept a few hot onesAnd if your 18 and under, this heres your last testAnd Im gonna teach you in the classWith the past tense, lil bastardsC is for class or for casket. so get your books upAnd if your doe is low, that c better mean for cook upDont tell me that you shook upYou konw I keep my stacks crossedSo that you gotta look up, and maybe we can hook upBut you know what? then you woke upSome body smoked you smoke upYou know what that meanYou broke, and you bout to get broke upHook (out)
