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​Down Bottom

This song is by Ruff Ryders and appears on the album Ryde Or Die Vol. 1 (1999).

(Swizz Beatz)
Ha, Ha, Ha Oh, Damn
Now bop to this Oh Yeah
Y'all know what this is
(Drag-On)
Flame on
(Swizz Beatz)
Juvenile, Drag-on
(Drag-On)
Flame on
(Swizz Beatz)
And now Swizz, Swizz Beatz yeah

(Verse 1 - Drag-On)
Me and my niggas done licked shots
Even done hit cops
Bet y'all niggas can't wait till my shit drop
Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
Nigga you don't want my paper drop
Cause that means I'm empty
And your full of it
Check what the bullet did
Missiles gonna hit you get you
Rip through tissue Should have never rhymed this 'cause I miss you
I make plus cash (Juvenile: Wha) Y'all little niggas can't fuck wit Drag
Got the chain out So it's bust and grab
Nigga fuck that You better bust back 'fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash
Spit like a fire but you can't touch black (Juvenile: What? What? What?)
All you can do is cuss back And read back how you bust gats
Nigga we don't need that I don't care about your feed back (Juvenile: Uh)
Y'all niggas don't feed Drag
Tell a motherfucker pull out Bust a bullet out In ya safe house
Nigga where the keys at Nigga where the stash at Nigga where the weed at
Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger
Mater fact where the ass at 'Cause I got the Ruff Ryders
And I ain't talkin' bout my niggas
Nigga we can go hoe for hoe Toe to toe Blow for blow
And when you fell your nose crack
That mean I broke that I'm fittin to PO-PO wit a flame thrower like I told yo' befo' ya know
You can't handle it You can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga Ruff Rydin' Drag-on Y'all niggas and south siders

[Chorus - Swizz Beatz]x2
Do y'all niggas bust y'all guns
(Hell yeah we bust our guns)
Do you fuck them till they cum
(Damn right we make them cum)
It's for the north
(Head South, Head East, Head West)
Ruff Ryders gonna show y'all niggas who rides the best

(Verse 2 - Juvenile)
In the late night
We be cockin high givin' you stage fright
Yo' head might explode
When I bust with the lead pipe
And I say right
Juvenile hey tight
Stay hype
Now page Mike
And make sure he got all the yeah aight
I'm tired of niggas be thinkin' that you usein' me
Runnin' with them petty ass niggas lookin' like fools to me
I'm workin wit some change ha
And ain't afraid to put 50 up on ya brain ha
You 'bout warin' over ya people I'm the same ha
Look I'ma have some body sayin' that's the shame game
But if them people come they ain't gonna give no names ha
Playin' with the number one son don't play no games ha
Come outside don't see nothin' but camouflage and bricks
Yo' get some boys straped with (ban) danas tryin' knock off yo' shit
Ya stankin' bitch I Ruff Ryde your ass then
Cashin' for money Juve ain't gettin' nothin' Ha, Ha, Ha that shit is funny

(Verse 3 - Drag-On)
When my niggas get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message 'cause I done mailed it out
I'ma bang like a hammer and I'ma nail us out
East west the right this for my niggas up north
My guns made in China so you better dust off
'Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
I always got chedder I never ass bet ya'
And I won't even sweat ya' We roll much larger and better
My dough is never low
But if Drag is down on his last
I'ma reach in my sweater bet my baretta
Make a nigga feel heat in cold weather
Can't stand a nigga hype Throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit You betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so tired Y'all niggas still rappin' like y'all don't know my flows fire
Y'all ain't got y'all boots Ain't got y'all suits probably got a gun that ain't never shoot When they come you better hope they don't name you
Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
Don't try to be me 'cause I ain't you
'Fore I have your spirits with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
Wana fuck watch out she will bang you
'Cause I taught her well Y'all players better haul to hell
But you niggas couldn't borrow a belt
Who evers wit you is gonna jail
Is you iggas bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none ha
You want to fuck'em till they cum ha
Drag-on Juvenille double up what you want ha (Repeat chorus 4x)