Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

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

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

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

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

Shit was to been squashed

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

Nigga fuck stress and pull lick, we in the door with full clips
Out of Magnums packin when we blast 'em we all out for the
FOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the niggaz and then dipped
we spark the pipe bombs, and blow them niggaz shit to
side-ways up off they block, gears in a big block
All out non stop riders until our casket
We smashin, blastin on any, while I remember
Dash and blastin two-three's, fuck the enemies

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

We stand tall, like Manute Bol with bigger balls RuPaul
Strapped with 4-4's to execute all y'all
Don't want to see us niggas on a
150 round 45 slugs bitten
No hit by the hardcore fo' sho'
Leave him stuck in his front
70 rounds through his front
Ain't no with G's
Fill 'em up to neck from they knees
Leave 'em in the street as we escape on they goldeeze