Ruff Ryders ft. Twista, Drag‐On - Twisted Heat Lyrics

We know y'all out to drink 'til y'all throw up
We know y'all sittin' on 20's
We know y'all reppin' your hood

But how many y'all kill
Bounce that ass, load them cribs
Let me see the mobbin' niggaz that, uhh, talk shit
While these muthatfuckaz be scummy and'll go for the money
Ready to ride when they holdin' a lick

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 ass and no gut
Let me see you jiggle it from side to side
Niggaz if it's static, then pass me the strap
Gonna ride 'till my ride

All the hoes that'll freaky niggaz, with the 'fedi
Let's get buck up in the club
And all my soldiers, fall out, gangstas, mob up
All the homeys on the block

Anny up on the fin and let's go get us a sack
Serve too, we got a custom 'Lac, hustlin' pack
'Til a nigga bust, they bustin' back
Guys that'll roll them dice and win

Girls with 'fits that show the skin
Real niggaz mind your best friend at the pen,
Real hoes let your best friend know about men
'Cause I be squeezin' ass

And will make a full glass disappear like a genie
Move to the LOX and Beanie,
While them hoes backin' that thang up on my weenie
It's like no nigga 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

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz
For the ones that smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (let's ride), hustla (feel me)

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz
For the ones that smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (let's ride), hustla (feel me)

By know everybody should know, that the kid spit tight
And this kid spit fire light
And the bitch I don' fucked like last night
I don't give a fuck 'bout a 2 and a half mic

'Cause the only muthafuckin' 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 click-click from the calico, I gotta go
Make it pimp with a lot of hoes
I'm the same muthafucka that's countin' that dough
Cookin' that coke 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 boots by watchin' co-op's in convo in 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 the Roc is E-N-why-see-E, in the NYC with the white T
All I really do is argue
Double F, are-why-D-E, D-are-A-G, to the dash O-N
Catch me, smokin' potent, bet it leave y'all, niggaz soakin'
With your insides open

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz
For the ones that smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (let's ride), hustla (feel me)

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz
For the ones that smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (let's ride), hustla (feel me)

Err
Hold the fuck up
Slow down

Drag, Twista, listen up
These muthafuckaz don't know what's real out here
(They damn sure don't)
This is volume 2 (volume 2)
Nigga, so, get ignorent

Gotta kick that shit for these bitches and all my nugz
the ones that smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do they say when he say Drag-On and Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (let's ride), hustla (feel me)

Whether murder or bouncy beat, my flow be philosophical
Smokin' on tropical, achievin' all missions impossible
When I up the block at you, I'ma pop at you
If your momma cry there's nothin' I could do

Should not've fucked with Mr. Illogical
When I'm in to clubbin', clubbin', shake it don't you break it
Your booty to shapey, can't take it, want to see you naked
I don' drunk a boo muthafucka, so you know I'm lit up
Everybody get up, spin witha a Twista, it's a stick up

This where the shit pick up, let me load this clip up
Lust 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 will burn you out
Tell your bitch I got a dick that'll turn her out
Especially when I tell her turn around
I don' hurt her now

Shit will come back, and I think it's time to get murdered now
I'm tired of silly clowns, spittin' out weak shit, sound like my shit
You gon' make me pull a all nighter
Standin' infront of your crib with that gasoline and that lighter

Now hit, we won't miss ya, Drag-On and Twista
(Puttin' it on 'em)