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  • Текст песни DMX - Get At Me Dog (Bad Boy Remix)



    Intro: Styles:
    What! Niggaz can't fuck with us
    DMX:
    Get at me dog. My niggaz
    Styles:
    That's my word!

    Verse One: DMX

    I'm the type to kick back and look at shit, 'cause crooked shit gets me amped
    And what you don't know, will get you locked in sleep away camp.
    Grand champ and raise more hell, than a Sorrel
    See you at the peephole, bustin' at the doorbell
    Though I wasn't coming without mine
    You put me on the front line because you doubt mine
    Bet your and lost yours, you come to get your I tossed yours
    And it cost yours, fuck y'all niggaz stupid, I'm the boss dog
    What more dirt must I do, plus my crew
    Busts at you, and you be like "What's that oooh"
    What's that Clue, do I bring the noise what
    Destroy these mutts, is these niggaz toys or what
    Bring all the pretty niggaz thinking they shitty, what a pity
    Lemme show them niggaz shitty some pity, but for fifty
    A motherfucker will get a bullet to hum to him, put the gun to him
    Hit 'em with something that comes to him, bet it runs through him
    Look at what I done to him, no more smiles
    Got the whole top half of his head, running wild
    But you don't hear me though, so I turn out the lights
    We can take it to the streets dog, turn off the mics
    If you want war, then you want more, than you can stand
    And this 44, will leave you with your dick in the sand
    Who the man, and now you cats know for real
    Get at me dog, (bark), what the deal

    Verse Two: Styles

    Y'all niggaz fucking with the L.O.X.
    Your stuck on a rock
    Got that Alcatraz flow
    You just don't know
    Lifetime kid caged in blazin'
    Any type of rapper or federal agent
    Paniro the made man, blade man
    Stand up type of guy, your living a lie
    Niggaz wanna be pretty and fly but kiddies will die
    The dogs run the city, bet fifty on mine
    Two grams for you to sniff, how silly am I
    Got a lot of jokes don't, kill yo ass won't I
    Maybe not if the spot is filled up with po 9
    Many niggaz get it confused, blame the rules
    Only ask the how's not the who's
    Better off busting your tool, then we might get the crew
    But as far as rap goes, you a motherfucking fool
    If you don't want chips, you should have stayed in school
    You and 8-ball nigga, you wanna play pool
    I'll put you in the side pocket, look at the size of my rocket
    Styles don't lie, cop the work then clock it
    Boxes full of boots, jeans, suits and watches
    Niggaz don't pump if they can't make a profit
    Stop it, before we pull it back then cop it
    Vacant lot niggaz come through then we lock it (WHAT, WHAT, WHAT)

    Verse Three: Jadakiss

    With no glocks I'm in your town with five locks
    Take five blocks, come back with five trucks, with knots
    It's the L.O.X, three niggaz that listen and watch
    And nigga you know, whenever we spit, it's hot
    It be that new flow, my niggaz, fly niggaz
    Always high niggaz, ready to die niggaz
    As far as I'm hearing, y'all doing a lot of comparing
    Lemme get the one clearance like a sample
    'Kiss is the champ and I know that you don't wanna get stamped
    Left somewhere cramp, so when it rains, you get damp
    Niggaz is done, since poppy raised his son
    When bringing in drums, to bring all g's to bums
    Whether you can flow or not ain't the issue
    You don't Jay to kiss you, his lyrics pierce the gristle
    Take a puff then a swig
    Think about how I'm gonna hold it down for Big, my motherfucking nig.
    Your money is low, and your flow been late
    While I be coming through with new shit with tint plates
    The only higher than money, is respect
    The only thing hotter than my click, is a tek
    So when I hit you with these last bars around your neck
    You gonna know never to fuck around with L-O-X nigga (WHAT, YEAH)

    Verse Four: Sheek Luchion

    My bank account be doubling
    While you niggaz stay in trouble and
    L.O.X. stay fly
    Three niggaz jig-I
    Shit you never seen before, Feds hit the repo law
    Kingpin, 10 mil. each of us popular
    It's Sheek baby
    Chicks hate to see me on the Soul Train
    With Don Cornelius
    And all they got is alias
    To work with
    To catch Sheek, y'all niggaz besta work quick
    Now that I'm eating right, plus living well
    So nowadays when I burp, it's fettucini you smell
    Ain't that right poppa-san, used to push a Nissan
    With a black master full 850 full suspension
    While you collect your pension, I ain't worked in years
    My stomach is fat from Puerto Rican food, while yours is scarce
    Small black haired, chinky-eyed Puerto Rican mama
    Keep them laced in the scadda, half the closet on product
    I learn things, just by wa4ching y'all niggaz make the wrong moves
    Now I know what not to do, to make more than y'all fools
    Y'all think we ignorant, 'cause we don't budge unless we benefit
    Cats that take the light that's scarce and see what's at the end of it
    P.H. me, because a nigga wisks me up in Jake B.
    Your shit be so-so, low pro.
    On a bus before the cars show
    On some old joystick shit, no mirrors
    I can see behind me through the cameras
    Flip plates, make the whole block go bananas