Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ryde Or Die, artist - Ruff Ryders. Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Song language: English
Ryde Or Die |
| Yo if gon sleep on somethin, might as well be a bed |
| And if you gon crack a nigga, might as well be a head |
| Cause 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 rocks |
| Cause I think not, I pop shots, I double what yall got |
| Ya hotshots aint got blocks, ya punta muchacha |
| From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule |
| And I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool |
| Thats how ice be, Im priceless, the iciest |
| And I dont gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest |
| My bullets thump when Im laced in some fly shit, punk |
| The baby nine be on the daily, aint no poppin a trunk |
| But if I pop the trunk, its to hand you a rag |
| So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my jag |
| Must I brag? |
| my shit paid for, yours tagged |
| And every bitch you grabbed, sheek bend em back |
| Ayo I hope you aint tongue-kissin your spouse |
| Cause I be fuckin her in the mouth |
| Type of nigga buck at your house |
| Too slick, means she be suckin my dick |
| And before you know it, ima have her stuffin my bricks |
| Jada, if I kiss you now, youll die later |
| I been nice since niggaz was watchin movies on beta |
| Ready to clap, everybody givin me gats |
| Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the traps |
| You listen to yall shit, then listen to our shit |
| Aint nuttin yall faggots could do but gossip |
| Thats the reason now yall niggaz aint got shit |
| Cause everytime I turn around yall on the l.o.x. |
| dick |
| Niggaz thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel |
| Give it to em at the light, like kanes cousin harold |
| Chorus: repeat 4x |
| The ruff ryders! |
| (what?) the ruff ryders |
| Fuck you and your son, yall low wit the scum |
| Show me the money, Ill show you a gun, motherfucker |
| Spll spin the corner while you parle with dun |
| I clap you, I clap him, and thats rule number one |
| Suckin my dick, and I dont give a fuck what you spit |
| Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you can get |
| Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record |
| Yall niggaz aint sayin shit until yall bare weapons |
| And even when you dead, you can still fuckin get it A nigga thatll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya Styles p., your favorite rappers favorite rapper |
| Aint no surprise niggaz, only fuck wit recognized niggaz |
| Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies niggaz |
| No tops, take em in all shape and size niggaz |
| No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggaz |
| What? |
| what you want? |
| cutey starin at me like |
| «damn, where you from? |
| «you be comin at me like |
| «can I get some? |
| «lick your lips for this brown sugar |
| Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, til I come, uh I be the d-r, a-g, dash o-n, slash often |
| Comma, burnin niggas often |
| They call me drag-on, Im hot scorchin |
| Keep the block roastin |
| Light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastin |
| In my eyes you could see what summers holdin |
| Realizin, every guy Ill fry or dead rowdy |
| I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty |
| Cause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry |
| Or catch one early |
| You wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of shit you on? |
| You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits on Cause Im comin through wit a yukon |
| Black tinted wit gats in it Catch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the sack in it But only half of it, cause yall like half-ass dude |
| And we are one whole, and yall niggaz is one slash two |
| My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, whatre you, firemen? |
| Youll catch a hell of a backdraft |
| Cause my fire retirin, aight then |
| Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water |
| Everyday I show another how a I love a slaughter |
| Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges |
| Taxin businessmen for stocks over lunches |
| Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and extort |
| Enough keys from the cuban, to build a fuckin fort |
| Caught up in somethin that I cant control |
| Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, lets role |
| Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it Waste it, in the fuckin streets cause it aint worth shit |
| The undertaker take your ass under the earth quick, i Love money, but the scrambles hot |
| So I snatch up my man and the gamblin spot |
| Twenty grand is got, one niggaz shot, one nigga less |
| What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin vest |