| When its on
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| Its on
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| You motherfuckers done lost your mind!
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| Its another one of those
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| Ahh man (New DMX!)
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| Another one of them, Clue slash X joints (Who's Next!)
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| Another one of them off the motherfucking hook joints
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| Bulldog, call a bulldog! |
| (Whaaaat!)
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| When I creep through
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| Niggas is see through
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| Just like negligee
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| Ain’t no talkin cause there ain’t much that the dead can say
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| Long as I’m walking I be strappin my dogs (Whoooo-hooo!)
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| Rackin the hogs
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| Desert Eagle packin the morgues
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| Metal slabs with yellow tags on toes it’s
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| What happens to those that
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| Chose to be foes and
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| Bet his man knows
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| But yo, we only get stronger
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| And the amount of time we’re facing is only gettin longer
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| Get the mayor on the horn! |
| (Clue!)
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| It’s time for shit to go down
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| Strapped for the show down
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| Wet up yo crib, kick the door down
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| Know you schemin' so I gots to get you first
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| Put you right up in a brand new hearse
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| Could be worse
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| Shoulda seen what I gave this nigga
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| Two vests couldn’t save this nigga
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| The way I laid this nigga
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| Played this nigga
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| But thats what I’m good at
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| Layin niggas out in fightin' pits and fuckin' hoodrats (Ha ha!)
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| Where’s my fuckin' hood at?
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| Cripple niggas like switches
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| Rip on niggas like bitches
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| Then pour niggas in ditches
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| They ain’t found half the bodies that a nigga caught
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| Or should I say a nigga bought
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| Cause ain’t nothing like getting' paid for, a nigga sport
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| Triple what a nigga thought
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| But thats just how shit be
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| I know that one day they gon' try that shit wit me
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| But just as long as I’m on top of shit
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| You ain’t stoppin shit
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| And ain’t a motherfucker droppin' shit
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| If it ain’t ruff it ain’t me *Uhh, c’mon*
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| If it ain’t ruff it ain’t D *Uhh*
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| M to the X
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| Most y’all niggas is strait sex What? |
| (*shots fired*)
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| Next?!
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| Plenty of niggas know dirty is how I do 'em
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| Put buck shots, from a thirty right through 'em
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| Cause ain’t none of y’all muh’fuckers built for war
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| And I lay down the law (Clueminati!)
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| When I spray down the door
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| Fuck around on my name will be 95-B-64−11
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| On a three-and-a-half to seven
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| When even up north I put niggas to waste
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| So you wanna stop the violence?
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| Get the fuck out my face!
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| Parole before peeps hit the board off
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| Bitches is fuckin but I sleep with the sawed off
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| I got shit to do, rules to break, crews to break
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| Before the news to break, I got dudes to take
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| I don’t joke cause Jokers is cards
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| And cards are what I pull
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| Infra red with the clip full
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| No leash on the pitbull (Ha ha!)
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| That shit is hot like the wax off a candle stick
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| But how I handle shit
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| Is to dismantle shit
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| De-de-de-de-de
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| Like Popeye when it’s Spinach time (Clue!)
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| Runnin' through two niggas like the tape at the finish line
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| What’s your crew, gonna do when I put the pressure on
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| And it hurts, wannabe gangstaz in skirts
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| And the bitches comin' all out them niggas
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| One false move and their moms’ll read about them niggas
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| And they wives’ll be without them niggas
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| Matter of fact, I’m tired of talkin money
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| Throw your joints up, scrap, bitch (Ha ha!)
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| (DJ Clue)
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| (DJ Clue!)
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| Niggas won’t creep in the streets with me
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| (Desert Storm!)
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| Cause you know what fuckin with these streets would be
|
| The Professional Part 2!
|
| Muh’fucker! |
| (Ha ha!)
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| Uhh, huh-uh (Fat shout — my nigga Ray! DMX! My nigga D-Wha!)
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| Pa-pa-pa-pa nigga!
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| (Yo Ruff Ryders! Word up!) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Who's Next (X-Clue-Sive) , by - DJ Clue. Song from the album The Professional 2, in the genre R&B