Luyện nghe bài hát Ryde Or Die

Yo if gon' on somethin', might as well be a bed
And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a
'Cause if you the L.O.X., you might as as well target a box
That you gon' sleep in' for years, all wit rocks

'Cause I think not, I pop shots, I what y'all got
Ya hotshots got blocks, Tu Puta Muchacha
From the in school, now a motherfucker rule
And I drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool

how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest
And I don't gotta wear to blow out your chest
My thump 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 down the windows on the side of my Jag
Must I brag? My shit paid for, tagged
And every bitch you grabbed, Sheek 'em back

Ayo I hope you ain't tongue-kissin' your
I be fuckin' her in the mouth
Type of nigga buck at your
Too slick, means she be my dick

And you know it, I'ma have her stuffin' my bricks
Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die
I been nice since niggaz was watchin' on Beta
to clap, everybody givin' me gats
'Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin' the

You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our
That's the reason now niggaz ain't got shit
Ain't nuttin' y'all could do but gossip
'Cause everytime I turn around on the L.O.X. dick
Niggaz narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel
it to 'em at the light, like Kane's cousin Abel

The Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, The Ruff Ryders

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

Suckin' my dick, and I don't a fuck 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 ain't sayin' shit until y'all bare weapons

And when you dead, you can still fuckin' get it
A that'll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya
Styles P, your favorite rapper's favorite

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 them do or die niggaz

What? What you Cutey starin' at me like
"Damn, you from?"
You be comin' at me "Can I get some?"
Lick your lips for brown sugar
mine like a thumb, if you want, 'til I cum, uhh

The Ruff Ryders, The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff
The Ryders, what? The Ruff Ryders
The Ruff Ryders, what? The Ruff

I be the D R, A G, dash O N, slash comma, burnin' niggaz often
call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin'
Keep the block roastin' a dutch wit the flames comin', toastin'
In my eyes you could see what summer's

Realizin', every guy I'll fry or dead
I burn to a of 130, and my gun dirty
it got one bury, so you better run
Hurry or catch one

You wrong, tryin' to me, what type of shit you on?
You better through boots on and your unflammable suits on
'Cause I'm comin' wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in it
Catch you while you smokin', send 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 is one slash two
My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you,
You'll catch a of a Backdraft 'cause my fire retirin', alright then

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

Wit these, I the breeze, and extort
Enough keys the Cuban, to build a fuckin' fort
up in somethin' that I can't control
Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's

Catch like a cold, and I stay slick so face it
Make me chase it, I take your life and it
Wasted, in the fuckin' 'cause it ain't worth shit
The undertaker take ass under the earth quicker

I love money, but the hot
So I snatch up my man and the spot
grand is got, when niggaz shot, one nigga less
What to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin' vest