We ’Bout to Blow Songtext
von DMX feat. Big Stan
We ’Bout to Blow Songtext
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Def Jam, yeah
(Come on)
Ruff Ryders, yeah
(Come on)
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
I′m just gonna stick to the script
'Cuz you know how that shit go
Quick to the flip dog, kitten don′t let go
Get that shit yo, wrong or right me
Dog for life and it's on tonight
Y′all niggaz make money, money, money
My niggaz take money, money, money
Bloodline, get down 'cuz I love mine
I can put my life on the line at least one time
Cats don't know nothing, but show frontin′
I′m a pump, pump it up like Joe Budden
Dark Man, bang your head with the walk man
Tryna holla at shorty, you still tryna talk, man
Sometimes niggaz is worse than the bitches
So I'm a holla at you, but first with the stitches
Cats don′t know who you fucking with
'Til you fucking with X and you stuck in shit
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Yo, Grease I need this beat, no disrespect
I just got some shit I need to get off my chest
Look around and I see the rap game is a mess
So many chromes, now they getting me vexed
Upset and insane in how the game gonna change shit
Sounding the same, and it′s a ma fucking shame
While lames think they flow so sick, getting excited
Yeah, they got a sick flow, it's called the, ′Young hoe virus'
But let me fall back into character
B got so hot, never been an amateur
Ask the locals, boy it′s Lo-Co
Never stop my flow, wanna go pro, you know
Check the history, started with the R's
Now I'm running with the line, four time, no mystery
Dog, tryna position me to get in the door
But since the door don′t open wide enough, we rippin′ it off
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don′t know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Dog, gonna be Dog, that′s how I get down
Step up, nigga, sit down, put your shit down
(Aight)
Clowns ain′t even built for the circus, I'm about to pop this nigga
(Dog, it ain′t worth it)
Yeah you right, soon as your man make it dead at night
I'll be there, aight
(Then what?)
Everything stops, money turns on the light
And pa pop pop pop
None stop shots ringing out, cowards hit the ground
I came to get down if you came to get down
Blow the pound up, niggaz wanna what with us
Bloodline and the dog I trust, so for the dog I bust
That thang, catch me while I′m up in the truck with that thang
Dog get the word, it's a must that I bang
And trust me, I′m gonna do my motherfuck'n thang
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Yeah! Come on, man
Ya niggaz don′t know what the fuck this shit is
Gutter
Gutter
Gutter
Gutter
Yeah
Yeah
Def Jam, yeah
(Come on)
Ruff Ryders, yeah
(Come on)
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
I′m just gonna stick to the script
'Cuz you know how that shit go
Quick to the flip dog, kitten don′t let go
Get that shit yo, wrong or right me
Dog for life and it's on tonight
Y′all niggaz make money, money, money
My niggaz take money, money, money
Bloodline, get down 'cuz I love mine
I can put my life on the line at least one time
Cats don't know nothing, but show frontin′
I′m a pump, pump it up like Joe Budden
Dark Man, bang your head with the walk man
Tryna holla at shorty, you still tryna talk, man
Sometimes niggaz is worse than the bitches
So I'm a holla at you, but first with the stitches
Cats don′t know who you fucking with
'Til you fucking with X and you stuck in shit
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Yo, Grease I need this beat, no disrespect
I just got some shit I need to get off my chest
Look around and I see the rap game is a mess
So many chromes, now they getting me vexed
Upset and insane in how the game gonna change shit
Sounding the same, and it′s a ma fucking shame
While lames think they flow so sick, getting excited
Yeah, they got a sick flow, it's called the, ′Young hoe virus'
But let me fall back into character
B got so hot, never been an amateur
Ask the locals, boy it′s Lo-Co
Never stop my flow, wanna go pro, you know
Check the history, started with the R's
Now I'm running with the line, four time, no mystery
Dog, tryna position me to get in the door
But since the door don′t open wide enough, we rippin′ it off
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don′t know
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Dog, gonna be Dog, that′s how I get down
Step up, nigga, sit down, put your shit down
(Aight)
Clowns ain′t even built for the circus, I'm about to pop this nigga
(Dog, it ain′t worth it)
Yeah you right, soon as your man make it dead at night
I'll be there, aight
(Then what?)
Everything stops, money turns on the light
And pa pop pop pop
None stop shots ringing out, cowards hit the ground
I came to get down if you came to get down
Blow the pound up, niggaz wanna what with us
Bloodline and the dog I trust, so for the dog I bust
That thang, catch me while I′m up in the truck with that thang
Dog get the word, it's a must that I bang
And trust me, I′m gonna do my motherfuck'n thang
Bloodline, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Bloodline, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Ruff Ryders, we 'bout to blow
(What?)
Vacant Lot, we ′bout to blow
(What?)
Man, bitch-ass niggaz just don't know
Yeah! Come on, man
Ya niggaz don′t know what the fuck this shit is
Gutter
Gutter
Gutter
Gutter
Writer(s): Earl Simmons, Damon J. Blackman, Dennis Lamont Joyner, Clarence Reid Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com