Luyện nghe bài hát It's On, On Sight

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

They want problems; soon them want me waxed, on my ass
It's comin from the pen, they say I owe 'em
Dwellin off the past and they need it
But what they fai'lize is I'll be quick to
Die cold blooded killer all about my work
Dressed up like a in a mini-skirt
Specialize in doin dirt - niggaz in the shirt
Put the in his mouth and make it hurt, ooh
Cutlass, guzzlin down a bottle of Swiss malt liquor brewsky
talkin to a cutie standin outside the movie
sittin on top of the hood of my
on a non-filter pink pack colored edition cigarette
Clove-family affiliated cancer lookin +GANESH+ beadie
What the fuck? W here's the treaty?
Full of my Wheaties, yes indeedy, M-16's shoot no beebees
Programmed to amputate anything that off in my way
Then I put them same size left bullets up in my A.K.
I can't wait 'til we bump

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

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

Shit was 'posed to squashed

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

Nigga fuck stress and lick, we kick in the door with full clips
Out of Magnums packin when we blast 'em we all out for the
FOol, 40-Water never slip, saw the niggaz quick and dipped
Before we spark the bombs, and blow them niggaz shit to
up off they block, poppin gears in a big block
All out non stop riders our casket drop
We smashin, on any, while I remember many
and blastin 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 he won't tell on one of his
high-ranked dudes in position who a diaper
With the shit stacked on the side of his
splattered all on the windshield wiper
Somebody tried to take his face - caught him up in his
Loose as a goose ass out tried to down him like a
hyperventilated started seizures
No feelings in his legs, arms, or his

We stand tall, like Bol with bigger balls than RuPaul
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 hardcore fo'
Leave him in his front seat
70 rounds his front window
no fuckin' with G's
Fill 'em up to neck from they knees
Leave 'em in the street as we escape on they goldeeze