Drag 'em 'n' Tha River
Lyrics
[Yella]
You fake cheerleadin' bitch! You want a nigga like me to beware, ha?
I'ma show you some spokes right now, you bitch you
[Tec-9]
Take them braids out his head Yella
[Chorus-Yella & Tec-9]
I'ma drag him from tha river dump his body in Chuck's yard
Leavin' a note around his neck readin' BAD ASS YELLA BOY
Oooooh he wants some? Ain't that cold?
YOUS A HOE MYSTIKAL
YOUS A HOE MYSTIKAL
See I'm from the 3 and I don't give a fuck
And I know you thought I wouldn't be back but you can't keep me down
Don't forget about the U and the Cash Money Clowns
[1st Verse-Yella]
I'm from the 3 and I don't give a fuck, for the record
Once again it's Mystikal with the Chuck's
I'm back up on the scene with the 2 like a Viper
Get in so much war I think Im straighter than a sniper
Mystikal you bitch, are you ready for the drama?
Told your hoe ass people hoe don't run I'll kill Mama
If I catch ya wit your draws down I'ma do ya
Once upon a time I up the roof and gimme the cruiser
[Chorus]
[2nd Verse-Yella]
I be the jack of all trades don't make me splizit, your fuckin' head
The queen I mean the King , I mean he learned many trades
Comin' to get'cha round the pen, ready to unwrap your braids
Gay blade, now what'cha wanna do? My nuts you can chew
Because they told me you wanted to battle
Told em you better scaddattle
You ain't bout no B-1 Doctor show, don't make me bust you up
Gra'ze the left, the uppercut, the roundhouse, sidestep,roll-o
Let go of my shirt you hoe, bloods up on my polo
[Chorus]
[3rd Verse-Yella]
Stop playin' with me, stop playin' with me bitch, stop playin' with me
I'm like the B.G.'z I'm gat totin'
By this time it's the bulldog barrel smokin'
I hope they catch and chop ya down, tear ya ass apart
Thrash all the swine touch down your brains on the ground
I gots the gat spell it backwards,
that's what I do up on that ass ya bitch I'm not an actor
I'm comin' dumpin' on ya fake punk wannabe
I warned ya too many times to watch the bloody tragedy
I got the diamonds to the bauds, twinkle up your golds
Now spin the bin, in the turtleneck polo cuz I don't care
Fuck what you sayin' about beware
I'm tired of tellin' you that I'm a donkey nigga,
Stop playin'
[Chorus]
[4th Verse-Yella]
I'm in the front room, in the whirlaround, the brown table
Are you able? Capable? All of a sudden, um...
I had to pop em, I had to pop em
I top em authority, respect is what I need
Hollow tips in the clips just to make your ass bleed
I'ma drop this pussy with the braids off see
I'ma dump his body in Chuck's yard, UNLV
I told this Mr. Cheerleader not to fuck with me
I told ya to keep my fuckin' name out ya fuckin' mouth
You didn't do it now it's time to take your ass out
[Chorus]
[5th Verse-Yella]
I gets lowdown and dirty with the 30 30
Because I'm in your neighborhood plus my nose dirty
I'm into Chuck's house, off deliverin' the bad luck
As I spin the bin with speed, it's too late to duck
I'm like Jim Harbaugh, puffin' on a hot Marlboro
I'm strictly with that asshole and comin' to down ya far
Why did I ask would I please leave ya alone ya see?
I caught my enemies slippin' gettin' groceries
I waits behind the mailbox like an old drunkard,
As Archie Bunker, comfortable? You bitch you
You see I walk by, I ride by, I drive by too
I got's to hang a .45 and a AP-9 too
[Chorus] (4X)
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BIG RED NOLA PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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