Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

(*Screeching tires, gunshots, broken glass, and screaming*)
(3x)

They want soon them want me waxed, contracts on my ass
It's from the pen, they say I owe 'em cash
Dwellin off the past and need it fast
But what they is I'll be quick to blast
Die hard cold blooded all about my work
Dressed up like a female in a
Specialize in doin dirt - niggaz in the shirt
Put the in his mouth and make it hurt, ooh
Cutlass, guzzlin down a 40-ounce of Swiss malt liquor brewsky
talkin to a cutie outside the movie theater
sittin on top of the of my Cutlass
Smokin on a non-filter pink pack edition cigarette
Clove-family cancer stick lookin +GANESH+ beadie
What the fuck? W the peace treaty?
Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, don't shoot no beebees
to amputate anything that gets off in my way
Then I put them same left over bullets up in my A.K.
I wait 'til we bump heads

It on, on day and night no matter what I'm dumpin'
I'm tryin to see you niggas somethin' (2x)

"I'm heated, niggas cheated" - 3X (in background)
We had a meetin', shit 'posed to been (3x)

was 'posed to been squashed

I've got a hunch; meet me at the Olive spot let's do lunch
Fool and dem tried to pass the and set us up for lumps
of bitches must think we some chumps
Time to out the pipe bombs and the pumps

Nigga stress and pull lick, we kick in the door with full clips
Out of Magnums when we blast 'em we all out for the chips
FOol, never slip, saw the niggaz quick and then dipped
Before we spark the bombs, and blow them niggaz shit to
up off they block, poppin gears in a big block
All out non stop until our casket drop
We smashin, blastin on any, I remember many
Dash and double two-three's, fuck the enemies

One of my big dudes up out HPA shot me a kite
He up in Pelican Bay three
Doin 25 with a L he won't tell on one of his
high-ranked dudes in position who wears a
With the stacked on the side of his waist
splattered all on the windshield wiper
Somebody tried to his face - caught him up in his Viper
as a goose ass out tried to down him like a sniper
hyperventilated havin' seizures
No in his legs, arms, or his sneakers

We stand tall, like Manute Bol bigger balls than RuPaul
Strapped with 4-4's to execute all y'all
Don't want to see us on a mission
150 round drum 45 bitten
No remorse hit by the fo' sho'
Leave him in his front seat
70 rounds his front window
no fuckin' with G's
Fill 'em up to they neck they knees
Leave 'em dyin' in the as we escape on they goldeeze