Funkmaster Flex

Funkmaster Flex - Call Me Drag-On lyrics

rate me

(feat. Drag-On)

[Funk Flex]

Ah this shit is ugly right here

Be clear baby! Drag-On, Ruff Ryders

Shout out to Uncle Ray

New York City are you fuckin ready?!!

[Drag-On]

We gon smoke trees like them legalize it

Here's a pipe quick, pinch a inch or die quick

Seen? Long as it's Funkmaster Flex

Me don't care if me flunk or pass the test

The pump will take a chunk out ya chest

Or rip out ya vest, which blood clot fi test

Read my basketball files

They say I call my nine my tech-nical fouls

Clubs hand check us now

Chicks hand fuck us now

That's why niggas like fuck us now

I tell a nigga it's not likely that my four is missin

So just lay down and audition for your mortician

Make you give that cash up

I'll get all twenty of X dogs to get up at ya

Trust me them pits'll catch ya

Make you spit up ketchup, extra

Layin right next to

Somebody doorstep messed up, chest up

Before this shit I was a rapper

Cuz while my face was masked up

Y'all niggas was wrapped up, act up!

[HOOK]

D-R-A-G dash O-N

Call me Drag-On I'm hot scorchin [both lines x4]

(Who Dat, Who Dat, How we ride)

[Drag-On]

You can see the tears in the eyes of men die

You can see them fuck with fire all the men fry

Seen? Ain't that right Flex, go head dawg show 'em off

Show 'em how them twenties look washed and Armor Alled

I give dicks to chicks that make them give they mom a call

Cause I always stand tall like my brain was in my balls

Look, what the blood clot, love the chicks that ???

Wanna see me on they period can't be seriously

The last nigga that asked me my name I gave him a blunt

And told him Drag-On and pass it on

I'm 140 so I wear my gun sporty

Switch 'em like a pair of Timbs and never wear 'em again

Me killin batty bwoy, make him a ??? from a dred naughty boy

You don't run around wit the shotty boy

It's not a cause

Let me see, when they comin who can stop a Ruff Ryder

In the BX pumpin' a lot of noise

[Funk Flex]

Blounce shout DJ Twin, Rockwilder

Shut ya fuckin face

Y'all mean nothin to me!

Y'all ain't got it the way I fuckin got it, yknahmean?

Be clear! I'm the king of this shit right here nigga!

Fix your fuckin face!

Matter fact peel your fuckin pocket, BITCH!

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