dj khaled - destroy you lyrics
(this is, this is, this is
yeah… yeah, uh-huh, uh uh, c’mon)
yeah check it out y’all, it’s them bone thug n-gg-z
in the house with that n-gg- twista, dj khaled
duece-double-oh-six, we ’bout to do it like this – yo
just like that 9-millimeter comin to heat ya
n-gg- we come straight for ya, out to destroy ya
they better believe as soon as they creep up
n-gg-z gon’ see how my tongue kill just like my gun, gun
twista spit it for hustlers, twista spit it for hoes
but i’m ’bout servin these haters like i’m servin that ‘dro
spit for my gangstas and killers that’ll put one in yo’ dome
spit it for my ballers and thugs that’s addicted to chrome
either rims or the thumper, now you ain’t gotta wonder
what a twista and here i go and never on drama
with purple ’bout a pound, and my truck i pound the sounds
and my 24’s got blades on them that spin round and round
back on the scene now, and i’m always seen high
still flow motion overdosin, smokin on green now
when i’m on them jordans, 20’s look like 17’s now
sportin throwback jordans from when i was 17 now
still i’m steady +po’ pimpin+, still spinnin and hustlin
still +adrenaline rushin+ like when the pendulum’s cuttin
alb-m comin out soon, but i already had props
pullin benz’s up on the block before i met yo’ pop
the twista, playa balla, slash pimp mc
straight from chi-tizzle my nizzle, never gon’ get rid of me
on some (this is, this is) and they call us c.m.t.
when they drop on how pop on about how it’s so fly bein me
with a lethal chemistry, put them in your memory
when you want that original sound, it’s either him or me
the most underrated artist in this whole industry
if rappin was the nba i’d be michael finley
still i’m bendin and grinnin, still i got pull in the club
still i’m poppin my collar, grindin on girls in the club
servin 50’s, rims is bigger but i got love for the dub
they love the twist’ like love for the chief, and love for the thug
cause i got that com’ game, and i got that bomb flame
let alarms ring when you hear the don’s name
i copped the h-2-1’s, some throwbacks like lebron james
this time around i’m a let my nuts and my platinum charms hang
t be poppin them tags, t be coppin them jags
and if the t do a stick-up you be droppin them bags
and i’m from where they c-ck hats instead of rockin them rags
and if they ain’t c-ckin them hats they be c-ckin them mags
t be thuggin and clubbin, “oh twista that look tight”
don’t every time he step in the party he look so nice?
i’m officially fresh in my gear as i’m rockin mo’ ice
and the mitch-ll & ness from the year when i used to flow like
annilisms are my verbal metabolisms
shadow’s prisms and my thug mannerism’s of cataclysm manor
causin some dis-establishment-arianism
i vary in wisdom, wins only cause i’m carryin ism and um
a street lyrical phantom, full of verses when i chant ’em
when this sh-t here hit the street it’s gon’ be the ghetto’s anthem
bone thugs, twista, dj khaled, listennn!
shouts out to steve lobel
krayzie bone, bone thugs, swizz beatz i see you
twista, sh-t’s crazy right here
cool & dre on the track
it’s dj khaled, historical, i’m a problem!
listennn!
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