Luyện nghe bài hát Ryde Or Die

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

'Cause I think not, I pop shots, I what y'all got
Ya hotshots ain't got blocks, Tu Puta
From the days in school, now a motherfucker
And I drop my chain 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 thump when I'm laced in some fly shit,
The baby nine be on the daily, ain't no a trunk

But if I pop the trunk, it's to you a rag
So you can wipe down the windows on the of my Jag
Must I brag? My paid for, yours tagged
And every you grabbed, Sheek bend 'em back

Ayo I hope you ain't tongue-kissin' spouse
I be fuckin' her in the mouth
Type of nigga buck at 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, you'll die
I been nice since niggaz was watchin' on Beta
Ready to clap, everybody givin' me
'Cause it or not, we be the ones settin' the traps

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

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

Fuck you and son, y'all low wit the scum
me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker
SP'll spin the corner while you prolly
I clap you, I clap him, and 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
niggaz ain't sayin' shit until y'all bare weapons

And even you dead, you can still fuckin' get it
A nigga smack ya, fuck around and clap ya
Styles P, favorite rapper's favorite rapper

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

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

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

I be the D R, A G, dash O N, slash often comma, burnin' 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 summer's holdin'

Realizin', every guy fry or dead rowdy
I to a degree 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' through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit in it
Catch you while you smokin', send your casket, the sack in it

But only half of it, 'cause y'all like half-ass
And we are one whole, and y'all is one slash two
My gun you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen?
You'll a hell of a Backdraft 'cause my fire retirin', alright then

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

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

Catch bodies a cold, and I stay slick so face it
Make me chase it, I take life and erase it
Wasted, in the fuckin' streets 'cause it worth shit
The undertaker take your ass the earth quicker

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