Luyện nghe bài hát Ryde or Die

Yo, if sleep on somethin', might as well be a bed
And if you gon' a nigga, might as well be a head
if you targetin' the L.O.X.
You might as as target a box

That you gon' in for years, all covered wit rocks
I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all got
Ya hotshots, ain't got blocks, ya punta
From the days in school, now a rule

And I could drop my in court, yeah, keeps ya cool
That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the
And I don't gotta wear fatigues to out your chest
My bullets when I'm laced in some fly shit, punk

The baby be on the daily, ain't no poppin' a trunk
But if I pop the trunk, it's to you a rag
So you can wipe down the on the side of my jag
I brag? My shit paid for, yours tagged
And bitch you grabbed, sheek bend 'em back

Ayo, I hope you ain't tongue your spouse
'Cause I be fuckin' her in the
Type of buck at your house
Too slick, she be suckin' my dick

And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin' my
Jada, if I kiss you now, die later
I nice since niggaz was watchin' movies on beta
Ready to clap, everybody givin' me

believe it or not, we be the ones settin' the traps
You listen to y'all shit, listen to our shit
Ain't y'all faggots could do but gossip
That's the now y'all niggaz ain't got shit

'Cause every time I turn y'all on the L.O.X. dick
Niggaz narrow, I just smack 'em wit the barrel
Give it to 'em at the light, like Kanes Harold

The ryders
(What?)
The ryders
The ryders
(What?)
The ruff

The ruff
(What?)
The ruff
The ruff
(What?)
The ruff

Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the
me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker
Spell spin the while you parle with dun
I clap you, I him, and that's rule number one

Suckin' my dick, and I don't give a what you spit
Who you are, you from, and who the fuck you can get
'Cause I sell records, plus I got a record
Y'all niggaz ain't sayin' shit until bare weapons

And even you dead, you can still fuckin' get it
A nigga that'll ya, fuck around and clap ya
Styles P., your favorite favorite rapper

Ain't no surprise niggaz, fuck wit recognized niggaz
Baby girl want the world, gave ya pies
No tops, take 'em in all shape and niggaz
No lie, prefer ready do or die niggaz

What? What you want? Cutey starin' at me
Damn, you from? You be comin' at me like
Can I get some? your lips for this brown sugar
Suck mine a thumb, if you want, 'til I come, uh

The ryders
(What?)
The ryders
The ruff
(What?)
The ryders

The ruff
(What?)
The ryders
The ryders
(What?)
The ryders

I be the D R, A G, dash O N, often
Come on, niggas often
call me drag-on, I'm hot scorchin'
Keep the roastin'

Light a dutch wit the comin', toastin'
In my eyes you could see what summers
Realizin', every guy I'll fry or rowdy
I to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty

'Cause it got one bury, so you better run,
Or one early
You wrong, tryin' to touch me, type of shit you on?
You better through boots on and your inflammable suits on

I'm comin' through wit a Yukon
Black wit gats in it
Catch you while you smokin', your casket, throw the sack in it
But half of it, 'cause y'all like half-ass dude

And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one two
My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, you, firemen?
You'll catch a hell of a back
'Cause my fire retirin', aight

It's my, survival instinct that keeps my head the water
Everyday I show how a I love a slaughter
Flood daughter, full of more holes than spurges
businessmen for stocks over lunches

Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and
keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin' fort
Caught up in somethin' that I cant
get a hold of a bankroll, lets role

Catch bodies like a cold, and I slick so face it
Make me chase it, I take your life and it
Waste it, in the fuckin' streets 'cause it worth shit
The undertaker your ass under the earth quick, I

Love money, but the hot
So I up my man and the gamblin' spot
Twenty grand is got, one niggaz shot, one nigga
What used to be his chest is now a mess under his vest