D-X-L (Hard White) [feat. Drag-On & the Lox]

Holiday Styles

Bitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neck

If I ain't gettin proper respect

I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill

I don't give a fuck

Never have, never will

If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin' to die

I ain't tryin to be the **** that's gonna look at the sky

Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie

We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time

My **** sell crack with a package of dimes

Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin' to bubble

Brand new nine and an eight in a bubble

I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set

**** think they a thug then thug to death

'Cause the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left

You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O

You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast

Heyo, I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is cool

And I hate cops, 'cause most y'all was dicks in school

No pussy gettin **** tryin to cuff the God

Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard

My dough too long, nowadays, my flow too strong

What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a song

Check my car, I don't care, I don't play fair

Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chair

And it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear

I'm a true thug ****, bring it straight to your crew

Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin' to you

You see the pain in my eye? ****, the flame in my eye?

I'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin' change when I die

From rappin' or tellin some cat to reach for the sky

I'm that hunt down ****, with the four pound ****

Bounty hunt your whole crew

My bullets go through, what?

All I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quick

A nice house with five rooms, maybe six

A town where money is coming, eighty bricks

Break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip

Bet you never even felt the heat

Till I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease

Streets help ****; **** don't help the streets

Y'all use beats for help

We help the beats

Who want it with me?

Who want it with Sheek?

Who want it with P?

If I say so myself, it's a wonderful three

Be in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox

Same **** that-a rob you love Lox

All types of burners, even snub Glocks

Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats

Find your man dead in the trunk of a car

It's Jada and mwa responsible for breakin your heart

Creep through the streets

For some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard

Me the security?

Protectin' my body?

I let me shotty guard

Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol

Make **** drowsy from the blood loss, got 'em noddin' off

And take casket naps, fuck that

You shoulda never let this bastard rap

All I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel

No parents, tale from my horror's no morals

Raised in the wrong era, with no guidance

So you dyin', It's no problem, no lyin'

Drag's fire; so ya hamburger beef, I french-fry 'em

To drag then ate your food

Like I know to raise his dukes so guard your chin up

Drag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin up

Drag scorch **** for dinner but season 'em well

I don't brag I let the streets tell

Popo now you see he fell

Now you motherfuckers know what my name means

When you hear it in the street

Y'all bitches fear it cause you weak

You wanna hear it? I make it speak

You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin'

What the science behind that son?

A lot of easy walkin'

I bust shit down, got down, kick down, shot down

Ain't tryin' to talk about what I got now, but I got now

I ain't never sold a brick, I done stuck **** up

And for talkin too much shit, I done fucked **** up

It can get dark for real, and I think you already know that

Well think about it with the brick in your hand before you throw that

Now don't act

'Cause actin' might get you rollin' with what you ain't ready to handle

All that's left of your memory, is a candle

It happens quick fast **** to bitch ass ****

Talkin' reckless behind your back, them kiss ass ****

From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tight

Let them cats spit that weak shit

I'M DOG FOR LIFE, ****

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks

They wanna rough rider

They gon' need extra jails and extra cops

They wanna rough ride

They gon' need extra pits and extra Glocks

They wanna rough rider

They gon' need extra chains and extra watches

(hey wanna rough rider

They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks

They wanna rough rider

They gon' need extra jails and extra cops

They wanna rough ride

They gon' need extra pits and extra Glocks

They wanna rough rider

They gon' need extra chains and extra watches

They wanna rough rider