Ryde Or Die

歌詞

Yo, if you gonna sleep on something Might as well be a bed And if your gonna crack a nigga Might as well be a head 'Cause if you targeting the LOX you might as well target a box That you gonna sleep in for years all covered with rocks 'Cause I think not I pop shots I double what y'all got Ya hot shots and got blocks ya punta muchacha I'm the days of school I mother fucking rule I drive my chain and cork ya and keep it cool That's the ice B. I'm pricrless. The iciest And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest My bullets thump when I lace this fly shit pump And baby I be on it yearly ain't no poppin' the trunk But if I, pop the trunk its to hear your rag Shit just wipe down my windows,on the side of my jag Must I brag, my shit paid for, yours tagged And every chick you grab, Sheek been done bagged Yo, I hope you ain't tongue kissing your spouse 'Cause I be fuckin' her in her mouth Type of cat that fuck at your house Too slick? Mean she be suckin' my dick And before you know it, I'mma have her suckin' my dick Jada, if I kiss you now, you die later Been nice, since niggaz was watchin' movies on beta Ready to clap, everybody giving me dap And belive it or not, we be the ones setting the trap Listen to y'all shit. Then listen to our shit Ain't nothing y'all cowards could do, got this That's the reason now, y'all players ain't got shit 'Cause every time I turn around, y'all on the lox dick For those that's narrow, I just smack them with the barrel Give it to them after night, like Kains cousin Harold [Chorus] The Ruff Rifers (what?) The Ruff Riders The Ruff Rifers (what?) The Ruff Riders The Ruff Rifers (what?) The Ruff Riders The Ruff Rifers (what?) The Ruff Riders Fuck you and your son Ya know when its done Show me the money, I show you a gun Mother fucker! SB'll spin corner while I party with dun I clap you I clap him, and that's rule number one Suckin' my dick And I don't give a fuck what you spit Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you can get 'Cause I sell records, and I got a jail record Ya niggas ain't sayin' shit till y'all bare weapons And even when your dead, you can still fuck and get it I ride about and smack you, cock back and clap you Styles be ya favorite rappers favorite rapper Ain't no surprise niggas, only run with recognized niggas Baby girl, want the world? Sugar pie niggas No tops, take em in all shape and size niggas No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggas What, what you want Cutie starin' at me like "Damn, where you from?" You be comin' at me, like "Can I get some?" Lick your lips from this brown sugar Suck me like a thumb if you want till I cum I be the D are, A G, dash O N Slash often comma makin' niggas orphan They call me Drag-On. I'm hot scortchin' Keep the block roastin' Like dutch when the flame comes a toastin' In my eyes you can see what summers holdin' Realize, any guy, broad day, rider I burn to a degree of 130 my gun dirty 'Cause I got one burby, so you better run hurry Or catch one early You wrong, tryin' to touch me What type of shit you on? You better throw your boots on, and your un-flameable suits on 'Cause I'm comin' through in a Yukon Black tinted with gats in it Catch you while you smokin', send your casket with a sack in it Gats only half of it 'Cause y'all are half ass yo 'Cause we one whole and y'all niggas, is one slash two My gun blast you Tryin out the flames. Are your firemen? And catch one hell of a back draft, 'Cause my fire reach higher than Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water (what) Every day I show another how I love a slaughter (what) Plug your daughter With more holes than swiss cheese (come on) Attack the bitch and stop for the leach (come on) With these, I shoot the breeze And its thought, enough keys from the cubans to build a fucking fort (what) I'm caught up in something that I can't control Trying to get a hold of a bank role and stroll Catch bodies like a cold. And stay sick (uh) So face it, make me chase it, I take your life and erase it (what) Waste it, in the fucking streets 'Cause It ain't worth shit(come on) The undertaker take your ass under the earth (come on) Quicker, I love money, but the scam is hot (uh) So I snatch up my man and hit the gambling spot (uh) 20 grand is got, one shot and you got less What use to his chest, is a mess under his fucking vest.