Luyện nghe bài hát Ryde Or Die

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

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

That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the
And I don't wear fatigues to blow out your chest
My bullets thump I'm laced in some fly shit, punk
The baby nine be on the daily, no poppin' a trunk

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

Ayo I hope you ain't 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 my bricks
Jada, if I you now, you'll die later
I been nice since niggaz was watchin' movies on
Ready to clap, everybody givin' me
'Cause it or not, we be the ones settin' the traps

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

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

Fuck you and your son, low wit the scum
Show me the money, 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 give a fuck what you
Who you are, where you from, and who the you can get
'Cause I sell records, I got a jail record
Y'all niggaz sayin' shit until y'all bare weapons

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

Ain't no surprise niggaz, only fuck wit recognized
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 you want? Cutey starin' at me like
"Damn, you from?"
You be comin' at me "Can I get some?"
Lick lips for this brown sugar
mine like a thumb, if you want, 'til I cum, uhh

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

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

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 run
Hurry or catch one

You wrong, tryin' to me, what type of shit you on?
You better through your boots on and your unflammable on
'Cause I'm through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in it
Catch you while you smokin', send your casket, throw the in it

But only 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 of a Backdraft 'cause my fire retirin', alright then

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

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

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

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