Down Bottom

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Terius Gray (born March 25, 1975), better known by his stage name Juvenile, is an American rapper, He is also a former member of hip-hop group the Hot Boys. At the age of 19, he began recording raps, releasing his debut album Being Myself in 1995. He became popular when his 1999 single "Back That Thang Up" was released. In 2003, he returned to Cash Money to record Juve the Great, spawning the number-one hit "Slow Motion". Following this album he again left Cash Money, and in 2006 he was signed to Atlantic Records. He released Reality Check under that label. He released his eighth studio album, titled Cocky & Confident, on December 1, 2009. He released his ninth studio album, titled Beast Mode, on July 6, 2010. more »


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[Featuring Drag On  Juvenile] 

Drag On: 

Ha  Ha  Ha 

Oh  Damn 

Now bop to this 

Oh Yeah 

Ya'll know what this is 

Flame on 


Drag on 

Flame on 

And now Swizz  Swizz Beatz yeah 

Verse 1 

Me and my niggas done licked shots 

Even done hit cops 

Bet ya'll 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 

Ya'll little niggas can't f*ck wit Drag 

Got the chain out 

So it's bust and grab 

Nigga f*ck 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 

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 

Ya'll 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' 


Ya'll niggas and south siders 



Do ya'll niggas bust ya'll guns 


Hell yeah we bust our guns 


Do you f*ck 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 ya'll niggas who rides the best 


Verse 2 


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 camoflage 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 

(Repat Chorus 2x) 

Verse 3 


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 

Ya'll make me so tired 

Ya'll niggas still rappin' like ya'll don't know my flows fire 

Ya'll ain't got ya'll boots 

ain't got ya'll 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 f*ck watch out she will bang you 

Cause I taught her well 

Ya'll players better haul to hell 

But you niggas couldn't borrow a belt 

Who evers wit you is gonna jail 

Is you niggas bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none ha 

You want to f*ck'em till they cum ha 

Drag-on Juvenille double up what you want ha 

(Repeat chorus 4x)

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Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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