Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

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

They want soon them want me waxed, contracts on my ass
It's comin the pen, they say I owe 'em cash
Dwellin off the past and they it fast
But what they fai'lize is I'll be quick to
Die hard cold blooded killer all about my
up like a female in a mini-skirt
Specialize in doin - shootin niggaz in the shirt
Put the pistol in his and make it hurt, ooh
Cutlass, guzzlin down a 40-ounce bottle of malt liquor brewsky
to a cutie standin outside the movie theater
sittin on top of the of my Cutlass
Smokin on a non-filter pink colored edition cigarette
Clove-family affiliated stick lookin +GANESH+ beadie
What the fuck? W here's the treaty?
of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, M-16's don't shoot no beebees
Programmed to amputate that gets off in my way
Then I put them size left over bullets up in my A.K.
I can't wait 'til we bump

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

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

Shit was to been squashed

I've got a hunch; meet me at the Olive Garden spot do lunch
Fool and dem tried to pass the 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 kick in the with full clips
Out of packin when we blast 'em we all out for the chips
FOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the niggaz quick and dipped
Before we spark the pipe bombs, and blow them niggaz to
side-ways up off they block, poppin in a big block
All out non riders until our casket drop
We smashin, blastin on any, while I remember
Dash and double 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 cause he tell on one of his
high-ranked dudes in position who wears a
With the shit stacked on the of his waist
blood splattered all on the windshield
Somebody to take his face - caught him up in his Viper
Loose as a goose ass out tried to him like a sniper
hyperventilated started seizures
No feelings in his legs, arms, or his

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