Lyrics 1.2.3 - Memphis Bleek

1.2.3

To stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
It’s just as easy as -- one two three
Geah, to stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
Aiyyo, aiyyo.
I puts it down for my niggas with them Glocks and things
That make a nigga stop, drop his watch and chain
I’m here now and I quote, get ya pad and take notes
This as easy as it get, better than baggin up dope
Rule one you need a gun, and a box of shells
Ski-mask recommended unless you ready for jail
Keep a knife, in case he get hero and grab the gun
And while you tusslin, use the knife to puncture a lung
Rule two, and every killer knows this one
You throw the drop on a thug better check him for his gun
Cause we all hold heat, we all don’t sleep
We all know rule three, you play, play to keep
Rule four — a team ain’t neccesary but it helps
You probably could stick a bank.
spot, or sum’in else
I’d rather do it myself, and stack my cash
Don’t need nuttin or no one else cause this game don’t last
Nigga.
-- one two three
To stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
It’s just as easy as -- one two three
To stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
Geah, aiyyo
Aiyyo this one’s for my niggas who will rob anybody
You know how the game go, long black shotty
I catch you in your Range Ro', you and your hottie
I’m hungry you ain’t know?
I stuck who supplied me
The fifth rule, a bitch could get it too
These streets watch me, so I gotta get at you
I watch y’all, in y’all P-rada and Gucci
You see bleek, camoflauged with a uzi
I take a nice rock that your man might have copped
Or your light pink face Rol', bitch you ain’t know?
The sixth rule, what we do, we don’t regret it
I don’t make a shorty wifey and, fuck up her credit
Then rule seven come to play, food stamps come today
You ain’t shoppin, I got shit on lay-away
Peep my game and feel my pain
A lot of niggas gettin wet when Bleek start to rain
Motherfucker.
-- one two three
To stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
It’s just as easy as -- one two three
To stick a nigga with -- ryde or die
Aiyyo.
Whoever be out shinin then this one’s for you
All that flossin, better take caution top
Cause once you slip, rule eight, facin the fifth
Takin your cake, takin your jewels, takin your bricks
And your wallet with your Amex cards and baby pictures
Ya ID, leave you stuck like, «Why me?»
And rule nine, we don’t touch no kids
We after your guardian shit, so pardon the kid
I get grimy, nigga I take ya weed and your blunt
The keys to your V, your rings and your fronts
Now who want what?
Tenth rule you still stuck
The game ain’t changed, just I don’t give a fuck nigga
-- one two three
-- ryde or die
-- one two three
Yeah, niggas know
-- ryde or die
How the motherfuckin streets go
-- one two three
Coming of Age Records nigga
-- ryde or die
The Understanding, hit’n’run for y’all bastards
-- one two three
We gettin anybody and everybody who look pretty shinin
-- ryde or die
thinkin it’s sweet
-- one two three
Like these streets ain’t gon' getcha
-- ryde or die
I take everything MOTHERFUCKER
-- one two three
Yeah
-- ryde or die
-- one two three
-- ryde or die
-- one two three
-- ryde or die