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I'm A Ruff Ryder(Album Version (Explicit)) feat. Jadakiss

I'm A Ruff Ryder(Album Version (Explicit)) feat. Jadakiss
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LYRICS

Styles - Verse One] Talk, Holiday Styles, S-P or whatever you choose A pound of weed, four guns and a liter of booze shoot niggas out they shoes, Come and fuck with me, I can guarantee you'll be makin the news P flows like NO NIGGA, twenty-six but I'm a old nigga Don't make me fuck around and show niggas How to leave a room flat, twenty niggas dead No money, no jewels, bullets in they head Ain't a nigga you know could fuck with the god rappins just a hobby, gun bustin a job cuz the sickest niggas out is the bitchest niggas out And I could take em on the street and straight whip em in the house Come through in the prettiest Porshe, the grittiest boss State gotta talk till the city get hoarse I'm the icin on the cake, gangsta of the state Guns, money and weight, who you fuckin wit dawg? [Chorus - Jadakiss] Uh, I'm a Ruff Ryder Weed smokin, gun totin' heroin supplier I'm a Ruff Ryder On the low dawg, no phone calls, got my shit wired I'm a Ruff Ryder Bust for my niggas, shh, hush for my niggas, all of us survivors I'm a Ruff Ryder You got a gun on you, I got a gun on me, both of us could fire [Styles - Verse Two] i'm just dealin with the tension and stress Understand I'm from the School of Hard Knock and my suspension is death I keep the P-89 twenty shot in the coat Better squeeze soon as you see me, you plottin to loc I'm a little more than itchy Motherfucker, when it's time to splatter your mask or burst your kidneys So go head and get your sons on me Like I give a fuck, like I'm givin up I got four guns on me Get down and dirty, all by my lonely I leave your brains on your block all around your homies Live by the code of honor, stay holdin armor I treat beef like a album I could promote the drama Stay bustin a hammer, sweatin a smilin And I make sure these motherfuckers'll regret while I'm wildin I'm the hustler on the block With money on his mind and some bricks in his hand, P can't be stopped, what [Chorus - Jadakiss] [Styles - Verse Three] You're dealin with the ghost of the past You could sleep if you want, and get fucked with this toast in your ass I'm the gangsta and a gentleman, I hope you the best And tell them clear the front seat and then choke you to death Throw the gun to the chair try to open your chest Get blood on the driver's face, window and dash Burn the car with the body in it, bring you the ash I get down on a hit like I'm Sigel the cold That nigga sniffed up yo coke I could bring you his nose If he stole money from you P could bring you his hands The nigga talk too much I bring the ears of his mans Need weed to calm down, need money to live life Fuck a watch cause my time is tickin Fuck a chain I'm already hangin Fuck a gang I'm already bangin Robbin niggas is my only form of steady payment Play it sweet I might be in your house L-O-X black mob Holiday and I'm out What...bitch?

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