- Votes:
- Composers:
- Earl Simmons
- Kasseem Dean
 
- Tags:
- american
- dmx
- east coast rap
- gangsta rap
- rap
 
- See also:
Dmx - Heat lyrics
The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 The heat is on, what's my next move
 Do I stick with the score or get with the door
 Feds got the drop in the back of the U haul
 Snipers on the roof, chance of getting away, too small
 Tell 'em like this look, it's gonna be a shoot out
 Whoever make it ou,t meet back at the new house, good luck
 If I don't see you again, peace
 Let's handle our business with these government police
 You and you, go out the front, you take the back
 You cover the first two and I'll take the sack
 Boomer didn't make it, neither did Stan
 Now it's three niggaz splitin' four hundred grand
 We all feel the loss but enjoy the profit
 The game is the same and nothin' gonna stop it
 Most times you make it, one time you won't
 All a nigga could really do is have a vest under the coat, c'mon
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 Me and my two mans, gave money twenty grand
 For a scam, they don't get the condo in the sand
 And chances of gettin' caught, slim, next to none
 But now we like three deep, need that extra gun
 Bump into my man, I remember from up north
 I remember he had principles and wasn't nothin' soft
 Off with disgust, just was slow and dizzy
 Everybody got it, aight, let's get busy
 Run up in the bank, bitch hit the deck
 Yo bust money and get the keys off his neck
 We on the clock, three mintues until we finishDmx - Heat - http://motolyrics.com/dmx/heat-lyrics.html
 Feds are on the way but I'm tryin to see spinach
 In and out duffle bag across the back
 Extra large sports coat to cover up the mack
 Feds they attack, I spit lead out, niggaz spread out
 Run up on a civilian in his car, made him get out
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 High speed chasin', racin' through the streets
 Death's in the air, I can taste it through the heat
 My partner's goin' fast, I don't think he's gonna last
 And if he don't, I'm a hit his wife with his half
 But that's the type of nigga I am, this ain't just rappin'
 I made it, he didn't, but ain't shit happens
 What can I do, but go on livin'
 Fleein' from the condo, I go on a ribbon
 Life goes on, that may sound wrong but hey
 We all live by the rules of the game we play
 Day to day, death is a possibility
 The way I play is a fist stops you from killin' me
 It's too hot to be in the heat 'cuz it's on
 Too hot to be in the streets, so I'm gone
 Go back to being discreet, live long
 'Til one day, either me or the heat is gone, c'mon
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to fly?
 The heat is on, are y'all really ready to die?
 The heat is on, have your mother ready to cry
 The heat is on high
 The heat is on, you know
 The heat is on














