DR. AMA - Lay Em Down lyrics

rate me

Roll up, load up, cock back, dude yelling

Hold up, pop that, lay a nigga down

I'm back, the six three, brown skin, tragedy

Off line, block and hate, don't get mad at me

Slap ya face, take ya face, expose ya buns to be

You'se a cock lover, snitch loving cock sucker

I got more pull in this street than a tow trucker

I'm feeling full cause I'm eating and I'm so gutter

I hope ya number one gunner got his aim straight

We ain't all sitting targets, sitting, watch you pick our plate

Flow retarded, back to blow you bubble wrappers

All you ucking rappers, show you what this ucking mack is

I'm a lover and a fighter got the total package

Got the jam jammers, leaving all my fans bananas

My music bring together red and blue bandanas

They rep they set, but enjoy the show, toke they hammers

All the honeys quick to pull they panties, know they love me

I look good but violate and I bet I'm ugly

The way I spit this track, you get so touchy

Wanna know where to find me, where I be's at

I'm talking to all niggas, sticky like some bees wax

A fan feeback, to the crowd you can keep that

When they pull the thang, the thang, no hesitation

G-O-D, birth of me, I know hell is waiting

Pigmenation black as night, my heart's blacker

Bastard child, son of a bitch that is to clap ya

I fiend for a killing machine, that's my addiction

Doc Ama, the room in affliction, I clean the friction

One sick fuck, live for the quick buck

Rather get my dick sucked for that quick nut, then I dismess smuts

Married to the streets, but you know I cheat on her

Just cause she's a freak, let other niggas eat on her

Spread her love, that's why I dump slugs, make thugs leak on her

Hate it when I see NYPD beat on her

A love/hate affair, my thugs anxious here

We drug pagers here, masked gloves scrape ya hair

I load up, roll up, cock back, fuck where the cops at

Pop that, blow off a nigga crown

Keep the four pound, cause so often niggas clown

S dot I dot C dot see gwop

Beat twat, squeeze glocks, snitch niggas, please stop

This is a vintage, malicious thoughts of many existence

Equipped with the heart of steel, of many apprentice

Whose job is to seek and destroy, any resistance

Feet, head, hands chopped off, fuck forensics

Earn a closed casket, dream team is different from you bastards

We dumping at the wake at the masses

Nothing in the, myst of traffic

Bitter in the sadness, I love ones life forever taken

Or I love ones loss, lives forsaken

As long as these pigs ain't getting scammed for the bacon

Kidnap they kid, drop 'em off with they neck rung

Back like Asian, Puerto Rican, it ain't a race age

Love/hate situation, it's based on the way you thinking

So bomb me, body language speaking

Most got fever, fuck by the decon

See what happens the jeans leaking, emphidemines creeping

The smell of crack burning every weekend

The smell of back burners, steady heating

Play the back burner, the youth is speaking

Or feel back burners that move you weaklings

Born and raised in the constant struggle

I ain't glamorizing shit, just exercising muscle

If I ain't, get it legit, I got a jooks and I fuck with fire

Get at ya bitch, I got a bitch with a bubble

Fuck boo, fifth tucked under the snorkle

Gon' ride when the beast up on you

H.K., B.K., when she pop up on you

Boy, you swear something sweet up on me, til she release that

M.P., and ride on the precent for you