Luyện nghe bài hát Down Bottom

[Juve] hmmmmm
Ha ha hah

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

Me and my niggaz done shots, even done hit cops
niggaz can't wait til my shit drop
Treat you like momma, give you lip a pop
Nigga you don't want my to drop
Cause means I'm empty, and you're full of it
what the bullet did
Missiles hit you get you, rip through tissue
Shoot another rhyme just I missed you
I make plus cash, you little can't fuck wit Drag
Got the chain out, so his muscle
Nigga fuck that, you better back
'fore ya monkey-ass where the dust at
Ride like the but you can't trust cash
Spit line of fire and he can't black
All you can do is back
in your weak bout how you bust gats
Nigga we don't that, I don't care about your feedback
niggaz don't feed Drag
Til a motherfucker out, bust a bullet out
in the safe house, where the keys at
where the stash at, nigga where the weed at
Nigga pass 'fore I pull my trigger
fact where the ass at, cause I got the "Rough Rider"
and I ain't bout my niggaz
Cause we can go hoe for hoe, toe to toe, blow for blow
and when you feel your nose
That mean I broke that, I fill a po'-po' wit a flame
like I told yo' ya know umm - you can't handle
You can put me on wax but my fire burn
And who that Ruff Rydin, Drag-On
Y'all niggaz and

Chorus: + Various (repeat 2X)

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

Hmmmm,
In the late night, we be cockin high and givin you fright
Yo head might explode, when I bust with the pipe
Now say it right, Juvenile, HE
hype, now page Mike and make sure he got all the yea, aight?
I'm tired of you niggaz, be thinkin that you me
Runnin with them petty-ass niggaz lookin fools to me
I'm workin wit some aiy
And aint afraid to put fifty up on ya yay
You bout warrin over yo' I'm the same yay
Look, I'ma have sayin that's the shame yay
But if people come they ain't gon' give no names yay
Play with the number one stun'na play no games yay
Come outside and see but camouflage and bricks
Them gather up boys strapped cannons
tryin to knock off yo' shit, you bitch
I'll Ruff Ryde your ass then, in for Money
ain't gettin nuttin ha ha hah that shit is funny

When my niggaz get knocked we gonna them out
it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message, cause I mailed it out
that I'ma bang it like a hammer and I'ma the South
West, and write letters for my niggaz up North
My made in China, so you better dust off
Comin to getcha, you gon' bleed ketchup, I always got
I ass bet ya, and I won't even sweat ya
You won't roll four and
My is never low, but if Drag is down on his last
reach in my sweater, bet my Baretta
Make a feel the heat in the cold weather
Can't stand a nigga hype, throw me his
Bitch come to my shit, you betta get her
Be a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so
niggaz still rappin like you don't know my flow is fire
and y'all ain't got ya suits, got ya boots
Probably gotta gun that ain't shoot
When we come you better hope don't name you
Cause like two sticks I'll flame you
Don't try to be me cause I you
'fore I your spirit with the angels
My keep a gun on the ankles
Wanna fuck? Watch out she'll you
cause I taught her well, y'all players haul to hell
But you couldn't borrow a belt
Whoever wit you is goin to
Do you niggaz bust your guns? Oh you bustin none, huh?
You wanna fuck em til cum, huh?
Drag-On, Juvenile, R, what you want huh?

2X