| I’m on my new shit
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| You ain’t listening good
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| I pull out the hawk use it as a q-tip
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| Shot gun up in ya nostrils I’m hostile
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| D-block totally apostle but no church’s
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| Lay you out is my soul purpose
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| Light a blunt hear the ghost out
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| I could make ya soul surface
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| Here’s my philosophy I ain’t really chillin
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| Til I’m looking out the windows and see deers on the property
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| Rabbits hopping around habit’s popping pound
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| Lighting blunts constantly ain’t no time for me
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| SP the war lord take ya jaw off wit a saw-off sawed off
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| Top floor or the waldorf bagging the yay
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| We stil trying to get a wagon a today
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| This is D-block nigga holiday Styles
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| And I never put my magnum away (hey)
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| STYLES: My yak, My cups, My niggas, My ice, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey)
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| SHEEK: My dutch, My haze, My spot, My light, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey)
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| STYLES: My money, My house, My Car, My Ice, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey)
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| My niggas Ryde or die side by side by side, you know why Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey)
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| It a shame what the game has come to
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| The pen got a lot niggas under the same pressure, the gun do
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| I understand you living but not that life
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| And stop it you just aight you not that nice
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| Nigga I pack arenas pack the ninas
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| Twenty thou worth of fabric pack the cleaners
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| And I just can’t say it any clearer
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| Only nigga that’ll give it to me is the man in the mirror
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| They hate it but they love it in exchange
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| Piped out the denim seat covers in the Range
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| Wiped out all the above slots, I’m never gon' cool off
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| Nigga I’m dumb hot, I get it in one whop
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| My man said I need a one to three, he illin
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| All I need is another 1 in 3 million
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| Oh yeah it’s nothin to murk you
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| I realize it really ain’t worth it when I’m puffin the purple (hey)
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| STYLES: My yak, My cups, My niggas, My ice, Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| SHEEK: My dutch, My haze, My spot, My light, Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| STYLES: My money, My house, My Car, My Ice, Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| My niggas Ryde or die side by side by side, you know why Ruff Ryders 4 Life
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| (hey)
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| I don’t rely on my voice to hold me
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| I spit don’t promise niggas shit can’t a gangsta fold me
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| I bring it to the hardest nigga in ya crew
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| Baby nine that let off like a miniature ooz
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| We could let it ratta — tatta climb the fire escape ladder
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| Dump out watch muh’fuckers scatter
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| Lose bladder, piss in ya favorite jeans
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| Niggas make-up more shit than Maybeline
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| The Vince McMahon, Ted DeBiase
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| Thirty of Courvoise', blunt in my mouth
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| Crack in the streets weed bags bustin out
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| Dime bitches that I’m fuckin wanna curse me out
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| Hatin niggas in the hood wanna hearse me out
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| Fuck 'em, come do it, the rifle is antique
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| Knife on the tip glorying niggas
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| Got connects with some old civil warrior niggas lets go
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| STYLES: My yak, My cups, My niggas, My ice, Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| SHEEK: My dutch, My haze, My spot, My light Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| STYLES: My money, My house, My Car, My Ice Ruff Ryders 4 Life (hey)
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| My niggas Ryde or die side by side by side, you know why, Ruff Ryders 4 Life
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| (hey) |