Текст (слова) песни: Drag-On, Juvenile - Down Bottom

[Juve] Mmmm hmmmmm
[Drag] Ha ha hah

Oh! Damn, now bop to this
Yeah, uhh, uhh, y`all know what this is (flame on)
Juvenile, Drag-On (flame on)
And now.. Swizz Swizz Beats, yea!

[Drag-On]
Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops
Betcha niggaz can`t wait til my shit drop
Treat you like your momma, give you lip a pop
Nigga you don`t want my clip to drop
Cause that means I`m empty, and you`re full of it
Check what the bullet did
Missiles gonna hit you get you, rip through tissue
Shoot another rhyme just cause I missed you
I make plus cash, you little niggaz can`t fuck wit Drag
Got the chain out, so his muscle grabs
Nigga fuck that, you better bust back
`fore ya monkey-ass land where the dust at
Ride like the girl but you can`t trust cash
Spit line of fire and he can`t touch black
All you can do is cuss back
in your weak raps bout how you bust gats
Nigga we don`t need that, I don`t care about your feedback
Y`all niggaz don`t feed Drag
Til a motherfucker pull out, bust a bullet out
in the safe house, nigga where the keys at
Nigga where the stash at, nigga where the weed at
Nigga pass that `fore I pull my trigger
Matter fact where the ass at, cause I got the "Rough Rider"
and I ain`t talkin bout my niggaz
Cause nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
and when you feel your nose crack
That mean I broke that, I fill a po`-po` wit a flame thrower
like I told yo` befo` ya know umm - you can`t handle
You can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga Ruff Rydin, Drag-On
Y`all niggaz and Southsiders

Chorus: Drag-On + Various (repeat 2X)

Do y`all niggaz bust y`all guns?
(Hell yeah we bust our guns!!)
Do y`all fuck them til they cum?
(Damn right we make them cum!!)
It`s for the North (HEY) South (HEY)
East (HEY) West (HEY)
Ruff Ryders gonna show y`all niggaz who ride the best

[Juvenile]
Hmmmm, hmmmmmmmm
In the late night, we be cockin high and givin you stage fright
Yo head might explode, when I bust with the lead pipe
Now say it right, Juvenile, HE tight
Stay hype, now page Mike and make sure he got all the yea, aight?
I`m tired of you niggaz, be thinkin that you usin me
Runnin with them petty-ass niggaz lookin like fools to me
I`m workin wit some change aiy
And aint afraid to put fifty up on ya brain yay
You bout warrin over yo` people I`m the same yay
Look, I`ma have somebody sayin that`s the shame yay
But if them people come they ain`t gon` give no names yay
Play with the number one stun`na don`t play no games yay
Come outside and see nothin but camouflage and bricks
Them gather up boys strapped with cannons
tryin to knock off yo` shit, you stanky bitch
I`ll Ruff Ryde your ass then, Cash in for Money
Juven` ain`t gettin nuttin ha ha hah that shit is funny

Chorus

[Drag-On]
When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message, cause I done mailed it out
that I`ma bang it like a hammer and I`ma nail the South
East West, and write letters for my niggaz up North
My guns made in China, so you better dust off
Comin to getcha, you gon` bleed ketchup, I always got cheddar
I never ass bet ya, and I won`t even sweat ya
You won`t roll four and better
My dough is never low, but if Drag is down on his last
I`ma reach in my sweater, bet my Baretta
Make a nigga feel the heat in the cold weather
Can`t stand a nigga hype, throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit, you betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y`all make me so tired
Y`all niggaz still rappin like you don`t know my flow is fire
and y`all ain`t got ya suits, ain`t got ya boots
Probably gotta gun that ain`t never shoot
When we come you better hope they don`t name you
Cause like two sticks rubbin I`ll flame you
Don`t try to be me cause I ain`t you
`fore I have your spirit with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
Wanna fuck? Watch out she`ll bang you
cause I taught her well, y`all players better haul to hell
But you niggaz couldn`t borrow a belt
Whoever wit you is goin to jail
Do you niggaz bust your guns? Oh you ain`t bustin none, huh?
You wanna fuck em til they cum, huh?
Drag-On, Juvenile, Double R, what you want huh?

Chorus 2X

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Прямая ссылка на текст песни Down Bottom:
http://musworld.ru/music/eng/103/1/11502.html

Все тексты песен: Drag-On, Juvenile
» Drag-On, Juvenile - Down Bottom
» Drag-On, Juvenile - Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume One


Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Drag-On, Juvenile - Down Bottom [Juve] Mmmm hmmmmm [Drag] Ha ha hah Oh! Damn, now bop to this Yeah, uhh, uhh, y`all know what this is (flame on) Juvenile, Drag-On (flame on) And now.. Swizz Swizz Beats, yea! [Drag-On] Me and my niggaz done licked shots, even done hit cops Betcha niggaz can`t wait til my shit drop Treat you like your momma, give you lip a pop Nigga you don`t want my clip to drop Cause that means I`m empty, and you`re full of it Check what the bullet did Missiles gonna hit you get you, rip through tissue Shoot another rhyme just cause I missed you I make plus cash, you little niggaz can`t fuck wit Drag Got the chain out, so his muscle grabs Nigga fuck that, you better bust back `fore ya monkey-ass land where the dust at Ride like the girl but you can`t trust cash Spit line of fire and he can`t touch black All you can do is cuss back in your weak raps bout how you bust gats Nigga we don`t need that, I don`t care about your feedback Y`all niggaz don`t feed Drag Til a motherfucker pull out, bust a bullet out in the safe house, nigga where the keys at Nigga where the stash at, nigga where the weed at Nigga pass that `fore I pull my trigger Matter fact where the ass at, cause I got the "Rough Rider" and I ain`t talkin bout my niggaz Cause nigga we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow and when you feel your nose crack That mean I broke that, I fill a po`-po` wit a flame thrower like I told yo` befo` ya know umm - you can`t handle You can put me on wax but my fire burn candles And who that nigga Ruff Rydin, Drag-On Y`all niggaz and Southsiders Chorus: Drag-On + Various (repeat 2X) Do y`all niggaz bust y`all guns? (Hell yeah we bust our guns!!) Do y`all fuck them til they cum? (Damn right we make them cum!!) It`s for the North (HEY) South (HEY) East (HEY) West (HEY) Ruff Ryders gonna show y`all niggaz who ride the best [Juvenile] Hmmmm, hmmmmmmmm In the late night, we be cockin high and givin you stage fright Yo head might explode, when I bust with the lead pipe Now say it right, Juvenile, HE tight Stay hype, now page Mike and make sure he got all the yea, aight? I`m tired of you niggaz, be thinkin that you usin me Runnin with them petty-ass niggaz lookin like fools to me I`m workin wit some change aiy And aint afraid to put fifty up on ya brain yay You bout warrin over yo` people I`m the same yay Look, I`ma have somebody sayin that`s the shame yay But if them people come they ain`t gon` give no names yay Play with the number one stun`na don`t play no games yay Come outside and see nothin but camouflage and bricks Them gather up boys strapped with cannons tryin to knock off yo` shit, you stanky bitch I`ll Ruff Ryde your ass then, Cash in for Money Juven` ain`t gettin nuttin ha ha hah that shit is funny Chorus [Drag-On] When my niggaz get knocked we gonna bail them out When it come to my gun my shells is out You better get the message, cause I done mailed it out that I`ma bang it like a hammer and I`ma nail the South East West, and write letters for my niggaz up North My guns made in China, so you better dust off Comin to getcha, you gon` bleed ketchup, I always got cheddar I never ass bet ya, and I won`t even sweat ya You won`t roll four and better My dough is never low, but if Drag is down on his last I`ma reach in my sweater, bet my Baretta Make a nigga feel the heat in the cold weather Can`t stand a nigga hype, throw me his bitch Bitch come to my shit, you betta come get her Be like a dog with a bone I run with her Y`all make me so tired Y`all niggaz still rappin like you don`t know my flow is fire and y`all ain`t got ya suits, ain`t got ya boots Probably gotta gun that ain`t never shoot When we come you better hope they don`t name you Cause like two sticks rubbin I`ll flame you Don`t try to be me cause I ain`t you `fore I have your spirit with the angels My shorty keep a gun on the ankles Wanna fuck? Watch out she`ll bang you cause I taught her well, y`all players better haul to hell But you niggaz couldn`t borrow a belt Whoever wit you is goin to jail Do you niggaz bust your guns? Oh you ain`t bustin none, huh? You wanna fuck em til they cum, huh? Drag-On, Juvenile, Double R, what you want huh? Chorus 2X Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Down Bottom: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/103/1/11502.html Все тексты песен: Drag-On, Juvenile » Drag-On, Juvenile - Down Bottom » Drag-On, Juvenile - Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume One Рекомендуем скачать: » Владимир Городзейский - Песня про толстых » Владимир Ланцберг - (стихи) » Владимир Музыкантов - Ночная бабочка » Владимир Высоцкий - Песня о погибшем летчике » Виктор Петлюра - Волюшка » Вирус - Братишка » Вадим Егоров - Пьяная песенка » Владимир Высоцкий - Песня сентиментального боксера ("Песня п » Вадим Артюшкевич - Падали злые звезды... » Владимир Высоцкий - Песня о сентиментальном боксере » Валерий Митрофаненко - Я тянусь на тепло... » Виктор Федоров - Прощание с камчаткой » Вероника Долина - Легенда о Сфинксе » Визбор Юрий - Над вершиной ели » Владимир Высоцкий - Шторм » Витас - Улицы столицы » Вячеслав Добрынин - Белая акула » Владимир Ланцберг - Жизнь, как жизнь... » Вера Матвеева - Не знаю, замечал ли ты, когда идёшь... » Виктор Калина - А на небе тучи
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