Down Bottom Lyrics by DMX

Down Bottom Lyrics

    Drag-on:

    Ha, ha, ha oh, damn now bop to this oh yeah ya'll know what this is flame on juvenile drag-on flame on and now swizz, swizz beatz yeah

    Drag-on:

    Me and my niggas done licked shots
    Even done hit cops
    Bet ya'll niggas can't wait till my shit drop
    Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
    Nigga you don't want my paper drop
    Cause that means i'm empty
    And your full of it
    Check what the bullet did
    Missiles gonna hit you get you
    Rip through tissue should have never rhymed this cause i miss you
    I make plus cash ya'll little niggas can't fuck wit drag
    Got the chain out so it's bust and grab
    Nigga fuck that you better bust back 'fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
    Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash
    Spit like a fire but you can't touch black
    All you can do is cuss back and read back how you bust gats
    Nigga we don't need that i don't care about your feed back
    Ya'll niggas don't feed drag
    Tell a motherfucker pull out bust a bullet out in ya 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
    Mater fact where the ass at cause i got the ruff ryders
    And i aint talkin bout my niggas
    Nigga we can go hoe for hoe toe to toe blow for blow
    And when you fell your nose crack
    That mean i broke that i'm fittin to po-po wit a flame thrower like i told yo' befo' ya know
    You can't handle it you can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
    And who that nigga ruff rydin' drag-on ya'll niggas and south siders

    Chorus (drag-on:)

    Do ya'll niggas bust ya'll guns

    (chant:) hell yeah we bust our guns

    (drag-on:) do you fuck them 'till they cum

    (chant:) damn right we make them cum

    (drag-on:) it's for the north

    (voices:) head south, head east, head west

    (drag-on:) ruff ryders gonna show ya'll niggas who rides the best

    (repeat)

    Juvenile:

    In the late night
    We be cockin high givin' you stage fright
    Yo' head might explode
    When i bust with the lead pipe
    And i say right
    Juvenile hey tight
    Stay hype
    Now page mike
    And make sure he got all the yeah aight
    I'm tired of niggas be thinkin that you usein' me
    Runnin with them petty ass niggas lookin' like fools to me
    I'm workin wit some change ha
    And aint afraid to put 50 up on ya brain ha
    You 'bout warin' over ya people i'm the same ha
    Look i'ma have some body sayin' thats the shame game
    But if them people come they aint gonna give no names ha
    Playin' with the number one son don't play no games ha
    Come outside don't see nothin' but camoflage and bricks
    Yo' get some boys straped with (ban)danas tryin knock off yo' shit
    Ya stankin' bitch i ruff ryde your ass then
    Cashin' for money juve aint gettin nothin' ha, ha, ha that shit is funny

    (repat chorus 2x)

    Drag-on:

    When my niggas 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
    I'ma bang like a hammer and i'ma nail us out
    East west the right this for my niggas up north
    My guns made in china so you better dust off
    Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
    I always got chedder i never ass bet ya'
    And i won't even sweat ya' we roll much larger 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 heat in 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
    Ya'll make me so tired ya'll niggas still rappin' like ya'll don't know my flows fire
    Ya'll aint got ya'll boots aint got ya'll suits probaly got a gun that aint never shoot when they 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 aint you
    'fore i have your spirits with the angels
    My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
    Wana fuck watch out she will bang you
    Cause i taught her well ya'll players better haul to hell
    But you niggas couldn't borrow a belt
    Who evers wit you is gonna jail
    Is you iggas bustin' guns or you aint bustin' none ha
    You want to fuck'em till they cum ha
    Drag-on juvenille double up what you want ha (repeat chorus 4x)

SEARCH LYRICS