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Testi Twista and Drag - n Twisted Heat
Testi-musica-canzoni.it > Testi lettera T > Twista and Drag > Ryde Or Die Vol. 1 - n Twisted HeatSwizz Beatz: 
 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!!! 
  
 [Twista] 
 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 'Til 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'll 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 
  
 Chorus: Twista (Drag-On) (2x) 
  
 Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz 
 For the ones who smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood 
 What do a nigga say when he say Drag-On and Twista (Wanna kill me) 
 Gangsta (Let's ride), hustla (Feel me) 
  
 [Drag-On] 
 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 at 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-Y-C-E, in the NYC with the white T 
 All I really do is argue, 
 double F, R-Y-D-E, D-R-A-G, to the dash O-N 
 Catch me, smokin' potent, bet it leave y'all, niggaz soakin', 
 with your insides open 
  
 Chorus: Twista (Drag-On) (2x) 
  
 Swizz Beatz: 
 ERRRRRRR!!!! 
 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! 
  
 Chorus: Twista (Drag-On) 
  
 [Twista] 
 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 
 You booty to shapey, can't take it, wanna 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 
  
 Drag-On (Swizz Beatz): 
 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'll 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'll 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
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