Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

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

They want problems; them want me waxed, contracts on my ass
It's from the pen, they say I owe 'em cash
Dwellin off the past and they it fast
But what fai'lize is I'll be quick to blast
Die hard cold blooded killer all my work
Dressed up like a female in a
in doin 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 cutie standin outside the movie
sittin on top of the of my Cutlass
Smokin on a non-filter pink pack colored edition
Clove-family affiliated cancer stick +GANESH+ beadie
the fuck? W here's the peace treaty?
Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, M-16's don't no beebees
Programmed to amputate anything that off in my way
I put them same size left over bullets up in my A.K.
I can't wait 'til we heads

It on, on sight day and 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 squashed (3x)

Shit was 'posed to squashed

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

Nigga fuck stress and pull lick, we kick in the with full clips
Out of Magnums packin we blast 'em we all out for the chips
FOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the niggaz and then dipped
Before we 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, on any, while I remember many
Dash and blastin two-three's, fuck the enemies

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

We stand tall, like Manute Bol with bigger balls than
Strapped with 4-4's down to execute all
want to see us niggas on a mission
150 round drum 45 slugs
No remorse hit by the hardcore fo'
him stuck in his front seat
70 rounds through his window
Ain't no fuckin' G's
'em up to they neck from they knees
Leave 'em dyin' in the street as we escape on goldeeze