Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blackout, artist - DMX. Album song The Best Of DMX, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 25.01.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Blackout |
| Jay! |
| Fuck that |
| This is it right here, baby! |
| You know what it is |
| Yo, I used to have bad luck |
| Now you might see me in a Jag truck |
| Mad stuck, either with a dime or a bad duck |
| Double-R tee with the matching bandanna |
| .38-snub, blue steel with no hammer |
| And I see y’all niggas tryna glance at the 'Kiss |
| 'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist |
| Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon |
| And you know I’m still writing the mean, lighting the green |
| I need the bucket, even though I look, right in the beam |
| Judge find out it’s my team, he boost they bails |
| Niggas throw us on they album, try to boost they sales |
| We put our pies on the table and our eyes on a label |
| 'Cause them rednecks up in the mountains’ll try to slay you |
| They call me raspy, tell you what I want you to know |
| Fuck what you ask me, you probably don’t want me to blow |
| I got a lot of horsepower so I’m able to skip |
| Usually a good nigga, even though I’m able to flip |
| You pay 30 for the 'Kiss (Uh-huh) a 100 for The L.O.X. |
| (Yeah) |
| And if we cool, then I write a hook for a drop |
| Whatever’s in the bank is my bet, a z-bull's my pet |
| And you can bet he’ll get the legs and the neck |
| Uh-huh, yeah, aiyyo |
| Yo, when my gun bust, send niggas to the fish like Swanson |
| New York’s youngest Bumpy Johnson, I put fear in y’all heads |
| Sheek Louch, type of nigga gasoline y’all beds |
| And that’s warning, if you all alive in the mornin', that’s fine |
| Now I suggest you hit the block and get what’s rightfully mine |
| I want PC, see me? |
| Tuck in your chains |
| I got niggas my pops' age that lifestyle ain’t changed |
| It’s like, wake up, move a brick, half of it slow |
| Make car money, check with Sheek, go fuck with a ho (ha!) |
| I rock a waist length mink, do-rag under my fitted |
| (Style on these niggas!) |
| And I don’t even want waves, Timbs be halfway new (Huh?) |
| That’s Sheek in the dress-up club cause I don’t fuck with shoes |
| And for my nigga’s life, I swear to the Bible, let it be told |
| I put thirty in your head, all in the same hole |
| 'Cause we got the same goal, and you try and tamper with mine? |
| Don’t make me motherfuckin' leave you with some shit in your spine |
| Fuck with me, you be a «was nigga»: «Nigga WAS dope» |
| «Nigga WAS gettin money» 'fore I extorted your coke |
| 'Ju crazy? |
| Aiyyo, catch me with a .38, box and shells |
| In a '98 Lincoln, eating pasta shells |
| Order to go, always got a box of Ls |
| Blow, stay on the low, get a Heine and swig |
| I’m Pinero, so I hate a snake, rat, or a pig |
| I pop shit 'cause I’m the second-best; |
| the first was B.I.G |
| Y’all niggas is sonned out, let me speak to your father |
| 'Cause I like to play chess and I swing the revolver |
| If I don’t like a nigga, I don’t even be bothered |
| I spit, I’m just a crooked nigga going legit |
| You hold your nine if you holding a brick, common sense |
| Fed drama, you hit the Bahamas, get bent |
| L.O.X. |
| get respect like Sonny from Bronx Tale |
| Us and DMX: the Ruff Ryder cartel |
| Thirsty to live, or y’all niggas eager to die? |
| I tell all my niggas ride, you won’t leave with a dime |
| Motherfucker! |
| Yeah, yeah, I’m a monster |
| I sleep whole winters; |
| wake up and spit summers |
| Ghetto nigga, putting up Will Smith numbers (Ugh!) |
| Surrounded by Sixes and Hummers, bitches among us |
| Trying not to let this bullshit become us |
| It started from hunger, 'til it all went insane |
| Now bitches notice the chains now that I hit my number |
| The chickens I twisted (Ugh) see the digits unlisted (Yeah) |
| The beeper done changed |
| You dead, bitch; |
| the Reaper done came |
| I suggest niggas stop speakin my name |
| 'Cause trust me, y’all can still feel the heat in the rain |
| I keep creeping, streets keep watching, I keep popping |
| Niggas is hotheads and the bullets is heat-seeking |
| Jay flow for pesos; |
| chase hoes, NOT |
| I just circle 'round the block in a drop |
| Tell 'em jump through the top (Uh-huh) |
| Where the sun roof used to be |
| I can see y’all not used to me |
| Nigga flows like none other (Ugh!) |
| I’m the meanest, toughest Don Dada to gun-butt ya |
| You the type that bust a lot of shots and none touch ya (Fuck) |
| I’m the type that get excited, when the gun touch ya |
| Motherfuckers! |
| Ugh |
| Y’all niggas bout to witness a dynasty like no other |
| Uh uh-uh uh-uh |
| Uh-huh-uh-huh uh, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… |
| I’m headed nowhere fast (Ugh), runnin' in place, gat in my waist |
| Niggas wanted a taste, but wouldn’t come to my face (Ugh) |
| So what that mean? |
| You cats is playin' games again |
| So now what I do? |
| Start namin' names again (WHAT!) |
| All you motherfuckers know that I speak from the heart (UH!) |
| Play like you don’t know, L.O.X. |
| is gon' bark |
| We can take it there, but to make it fair, get some more niggas |
| Styles, Sheek, Jay… We comin' with like four niggas (AIGHT!) |
| Y’all niggas best to stop playin' |
| It’ll be the ones you forgotten about |
| That’ll get you shot in your mouth |
| ARF! |
| ARF! |
| Got my dogs covered (UH!) |
| Plus it’s all gravy, like chicken when it’s smothered (WHAT!) |
| It’s Dark, and I LOVE IT! |
| (UH!) |
| Get him, boy, let him loose (C'MON!) |
| You want it with the dog or the gun? |
| Let him choose (C'MON!) |