Twisted Heat - Featuring Twista And Drag-on Lyrics

Twisted Heat - Featuring Twista And Drag-on lyrics

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!!!

[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!)