damnlyrics.com

Ryde Or Die

Yo, if gon' sleep on somethin', might as well be a bed

And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a head

'Cause if you targetin' the L.O.X.

You might as as well target a box

That you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks

'Cause I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all got

Ya hotshots, ain't got blocks, ya punta muchacha

From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule

And I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool

That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest

And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest

My bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly shit, punk

The baby nine be on the daily, ain't no poppin' a trunk

But if I pop the trunk, it's to hand you a rag

So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my jag

Must I brag? My shit paid for, yours tagged

And every bitch you grabbed, sheek bend 'em back

Ayo, I hope you ain't tongue kissin' your spouse

'Cause I be fuckin' her in the mouth

Type of nigga buck at your house

Too slick, means she be suckin' my dick

And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin' my bricks

Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later

I been nice since niggaz was watchin' movies on beta

Ready to clap, everybody givin' me gats

'Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin' the traps

You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our shit

Ain't nuttin' y'all faggots could do but gossip

That's the reason now y'all niggaz ain't got shit

'Cause every time I turn around y'all on the L.O.X. dick

Niggaz that's narrow, I just smack 'em wit the barrel

Give it to 'em at the light, like Kanes cousin Harold

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the scum

Show me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker

Spell spin the corner while you parle 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, plus I got a jail record

Y'all niggaz ain't sayin' shit until y'all bare weapons

And even when you dead, you can still fuckin' get it

A nigga that'll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya

Styles P., your favorite rappers favorite rapper

Ain't no surprise niggaz, only fuck wit recognized niggaz

Baby girl want the world, gave ya pies niggaz

No tops, take 'em in all shape and size niggaz

No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggaz

What? What you want? Cutey starin' at me like

Damn, where you from? You be comin' at me like

Can I get some? Lick your lips for this brown sugar

Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, 'til I come, uh

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

The ruff ryders

(What?)

The ruff ryders

I be the D R, A G, dash O N, slash often

Come on, burnin' niggas often

They call me drag-on, I'm hot scorchin'

Keep the block roastin'

Light a dutch wit the flames comin', toastin'

In my eyes you could see what summers holdin'

Realizin', every guy I'll fry or dead rowdy

I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty

'Cause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry

Or catch one early

You wrong, tryin' to touch me, what type of shit you on?

You better through your boots on and your inflammable suits on

'Cause I'm comin' through wit a Yukon

Black tinted wit gats in it

Catch you while you smokin', send your casket, throw the sack in it

But only half of it, 'cause y'all like half-ass dude

And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one slash two

My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen?

You'll catch a hell of a back draft

'Cause my fire retirin', aight then

It's my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water

Everyday I show another how a I love a slaughter

Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges

Taxin' businessmen for stocks over lunches

Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and extort

Enough keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin' fort

Caught up in somethin' that I cant control

Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, lets role

Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it

Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it

Waste it, in the fuckin' streets 'cause it ain't worth shit

The undertaker take your ass under the earth quick, I

Love money, but the scrambles hot

So I snatch up my man and the gamblin' spot

Twenty grand is got, one niggaz shot, one nigga less

What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin' vest

Enjoy the lyrics !!!