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Correct Twisted Heat Lyrics
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Artists: T
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Twist & Drag-On
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Correct Twisted Heat
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Lyrics:
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 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) 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, are-Y-D-E, D-are-A-G, to the dash O-N Catch me, smokin' potent, bet it leave y'all, niggaz soakin' With your insides open 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 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) 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 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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