D.O.A. Twista
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "D.O.A." by Twista. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
Dead on arrival, swear to God I'mma kill 'em
As if I done put my hands on the Bible
Get 'em cause I'm liable to rock a motherfucker off
Especially if I get my hands on a rifle
Do the damn thang, not that they can stop a nigga
Pop a nigga off as if you were champagne
Put 'em in the ambulance but ain't no resuscitation
Cause he done got knocked off, point-blank range
It's a crisis the way niggas will pull up and shoot
Last week, the streets just put him in a coupe
This week, the streets just put him in a suit
Six feet under with dirt on top of the roof
Put 'em in a grave, people standin' over your body
And they wonderin' if your soul'll be saved
Or if it has risen or if it will be forbidden, by the way
You was doin' shit, they could've put you in prison
Now you ain't with the livin'
Cause you weren't a shooter or didn't know how to shoot
Either way feel inferior, I make the block cripple
Comin' like a moshpit'll be the nigga knowin' if we
Bustin' Glocks, it'll put you up in a hospital
And when you on the way
And they get a look at the way that the bullets spray
Everybody about to know, that we don't play
Makin' sure that your body arrive D.O.A
Or dead on arrival...
Dead on arrival, swear to God I'mma kill 'em
As if I done put my hands on the Bible
Get 'em cause I'm liable to rock a motherfucker off
Especially if I get my hands on a rifle
Do the damn thang, not that they can stop a nigga
Pop a nigga off as if you were champagne
Put 'em in the ambulance but ain't no resuscitation
Cause he done got knocked off, point-blank range
It's a crisis the way niggas will pull up and shoot
Last week, the streets just put him in a coupe
This week, the streets just put him in a suit
Six feet under with dirt on top of the roof
Put 'em in a grave, people standin' over your body
And they wonderin' if your soul'll be saved
Or if it has risen or if it will be forbidden, by the way
You was doin' shit, they could've put you in prison
Now you ain't with the livin'
Cause you weren't a shooter or didn't know how to shoot
Either way feel inferior, I make the block cripple
Comin' like a moshpit'll be the nigga knowin' if we
Bustin' Glocks, it'll put you up in a hospital
And when you on the way
And they get a look at the way that the bullets spray
Everybody about to know, that we don't play
Makin' sure that your body arrive D.O.A
Or dead on arrival...
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!