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Twista - Twisted Heat - текст песни, видео

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Twista - Twisted Heat - текст песни, видео

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Swizz 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!!! 

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) 

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: 
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) 

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!)
Добавлено: 06.08.2013
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