Luyện nghe bài hát Ryde or Die

Yo if gon' sleep on somethin, as well be a bed
And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as be a head
if you targettin the L.O.X.
You might as as well a box
you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks
Cause I think not, I pop shots, I what y'all got
Ya hotshots aint got blocks, ya punta
the days in school, now a motherfucker rule
And I could my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool
how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest
And I dont gotta fatigues to blow out your chest
My bullets thump I'm laced in some fly shit, punk
The baby nine be on the daily, aint no a trunk
But if I pop the trunk, its to you a rag
So you can wipe down the on the side of my Jag
Must I brag? My shit paid for, tagged
And every bitch you grabbed, Sheek bend em

Ayo I hope you aint tongue-kissin your
I be fuckin her in the mouth
Type of nigga buck at house
Too slick, means she be suckin my
And before you know it, I'ma her stuffin my bricks
Jada, if I you now, you'll die later
I been since niggaz was watchin movies 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
Ain't nuttin y'all faggots do but gossip
That's the now y'all niggaz ain't got shit
Cause everytime I turn y'all on the L.O.X. dick
Niggaz thats narrow, I just smack em wit the
it to em at the light, like Kane's cousin Harold

Chorus: 4X

The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ryders

Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the
me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker
SP'll the corner while you parle' with dun
I clap you, I him, and thats rule number one
Suckin my dick, and I dont give a fuck you spit
Who you are, where you from, and who the you can get
I sell records, plus I got a jail record
Y'all niggaz ain't sayin shit until y'all weapons
And when you dead, you can still fuckin get it
A nigga smack ya, fuck around and clap ya
Styles P., favorite rapper's favorite rapper

Aint no surprise niggaz, fuck wit recognized niggaz
Babygirl the world, gave ya pies niggaz
No tops, take em in all and size niggaz
No lie, prefer them do or die niggaz
What you want? cutey starin at me like
"Damn, where you from?" You be at me like
"Can I get some?" Lick your for this brown sugar
Suck like a thumb, if you want, til I come, uh

I be the D-R, A-G, dash O-N, often
Comma, burnin often
They call me Drag-On, I'm hot
Keep the roastin
Light a dutch wit the flames comin,
In my you could see what summer's holdin
Realizin, guy I'll fry or dead rowdy
I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun
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 unflammable suits on
Cause I'm through wit a Yukon
Black tinted wit in it
Catch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the in it
But only half of it, cause like half-ass dude
And we are one whole, and niggaz is one slash two
My gun blast you, out the flames, what're you, firemen?
You'll a hell of a backdraft
cause my fire retirin, aight

Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head the water
Everyday I another how a I love a slaughter
Flood your daughter, full of more holes than
businessmen for stocks over lunches
Wit these, I the breeze, and extort
Enough keys from the Cuban, to a fuckin fort
Caught up in that I cant control
get a hold of a bankroll, let's role
Catch bodies a cold, and I stay slick so face it
Make me it, I take your life and erase it
Waste it, in the fuckin streets cause it worth shit
The undertaker your ass under the earth quick, I
money, but the scrambles hot
So i snatch up my man and the spot
Twenty grand is got, one shot, one nigga less
What used to be his chest is now a mess under his vest