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 the L.O.X. You might as as target a box
That you sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks 'Cause I think not, I pop shots, I what y'all got Ya hotshots, got blocks, ya punta muchacha From the in school, now a motherfucker rule
And I could drop my in court, yeah, keeps ya cool how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest And I don't gotta fatigues to blow 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 the windows on the side of my jag Must I brag? My shit for, yours tagged And every you grabbed, sheek bend 'em back
Ayo, I hope you ain't kissin' your spouse 'Cause I be fuckin' her in the Type of nigga at your house Too slick, means she be my dick
And before you know it, have her stuffin' my bricks Jada, if I you now, you'll die later I been nice since niggaz was watchin' movies on Ready to clap, everybody me gats
'Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin' the You listen to shit, then 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 around on the L.O.X. dick Niggaz that's narrow, I smack 'em wit the barrel Give it to 'em at the light, like cousin Harold
The ruff (What?) The ryders The ruff (What?) The ryders
The ryders (What?) The ryders The ryders (What?) The ruff
Fuck you and your son, y'all low wit the Show me the money, I'll you a gun, motherfucker Spell spin the while you parle with dun I clap you, I clap him, and that's number one
Suckin' my dick, and I don't 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 shit until y'all bare weapons
And even when you dead, you can still get it A nigga that'll smack ya, fuck and clap ya Styles P., your rappers favorite rapper
Ain't no niggaz, only fuck wit recognized niggaz Baby girl want the world, ya pies niggaz No tops, take 'em in all and size niggaz No lie, prefer ready do or die niggaz
What? What you Cutey starin' at me like Damn, where you from? You be at me like Can I get Lick your lips for this brown sugar mine like a thumb, if you want, 'til I come, uh
The ryders (What?) The ruff The ruff (What?) The ryders
The ruff (What?) The ruff The ruff (What?) The ruff
I be the D R, A G, dash O N, slash Come on, niggas often They me drag-on, I'm hot scorchin' Keep the block
Light a dutch wit the comin', toastin' In my you could see what summers holdin' Realizin', every guy I'll fry or rowdy I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun
it got one bury, so you better run, hurry Or one early You wrong, tryin' to me, what type of shit you on? You better through your boots on and inflammable suits on
'Cause I'm comin' through wit a Black wit gats in it Catch you while you smokin', your casket, throw the sack in it But only half of it, 'cause y'all half-ass dude
And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one two My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, You'll catch a of a back draft 'Cause my retirin', aight then
It's my, survival instinct that keeps my above the water Everyday I another how a I love a slaughter Flood your daughter, of more holes than spurges Taxin' businessmen for stocks lunches
Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and Enough keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin' Caught up in somethin' that I control Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, 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 ain't shit The undertaker take ass under the earth quick, I
money, but the scrambles hot So I up my man and the gamblin' spot Twenty grand is got, one niggaz shot, one less What used to be his chest is now a under his fuckin' vest