| A pound of weed, four guns and a liter of booze
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| Whup you niggas out they shoes, what
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| Come and fuck with me, I can guarantee you’ll be makin a lose
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| P flows like NO NIGGA, twenty-six but I’m a old nigga
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| Don’t make me fuck around and show niggas
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| How to leave a room flat, twenty niggas dead
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| No money, no jewels, bullets in they head
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| Ain’t a nigga you know could fuck with the god
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| I said that was just a hobby, gun bust in the job
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| But the sickest niggas out is the bitchest niggas out
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| And I could take em on the street and straight whip em in the house
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| Come through in the prettiest Porshe, the grittiest morse
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| State gotta talk till the city get hoarse
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| I’m the icin on the cake, gangsta of the state
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| Guns, money you wait, who you fuckin wit dawg?
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| Uh, I’m a Ruff Ryder
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| Weed smokin, gun totin’heroin supplier
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| I’m a Ruff Ryder
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| On the low dawg, no phone calls, got my shit wired
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| I’m a Ruff Ryder
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| Bust for my niggas, shh, hush for my niggas, all of us survivors
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| I’m a Ruff Ryder
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| You got a gun on you, I got a gun on me, both of us could fire
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| You’ll steal with the tension and stress
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| Understand I’m from the School of Hard Knock and my suspension is death
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| I keep the P-89 twenty shot in the coat
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| Better squeeze soon as you see me, you plottin to loat
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| I’m a little more than itchy
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| Motherfucker, when it’s time to splatter your mask I burst your kidneys
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| So go head and get your sons on me Like I give a fuck, like I’m givin up I got four guns on me Get down and dirty, all time aloney
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| I leave your brains on your block all around your homies
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| Live by the code of honor, stay holdin armor
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| I treat beef like a album I could poke a drama
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| Stay bustin a hammer, sweatin a smile
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| And I make sure these motherfuckers’ll regret while I’m wildin
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| I’m the hustler on the block
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| With money on his mind and some bricks in his hand, P can’t be stopped, what
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| You’re dealin with the ghost of the past
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| You could sleep if you want, and get fucked with this toast in your ass
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| I’m the gangsta and a gentleman, I hope you the best
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| And tell them clear the front seat and then choke you to death
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| Throw the gun to the chair try to open your chest
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| Get blood on the driver’s face, window and dash
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| Burn the car with the body in it, bring you the ash
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| I get down on yo head like I’m Sigel the cold
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| That nigga sniffed up yo coat I could bring you his nose
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| If he stole money from you P could bring you his hands
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| The nigga talk too much I bring the ears of his fans
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| Need weed to calm down, need money to leave light
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| Fuck a watch cause my time is tickin
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| Fuck a chain I’m already hangin
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| Fuck a gang I’m already bangin
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| Robbin niggas is my only form of steady payment
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| Play it sweet I might be in your house
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| L-O-X black mob Holiday and I’m out
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| What… bitch?
|
| Uh, I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| Weed smokin, gun totin’heroin supplier
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| On the low dawg, no phone calls, got my shit wired
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| Bust for my niggas, shh, hush for my niggas, all of us survivors
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| You got a gun on you, I got a gun on me, both of us could fire
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| Weed smokin, gun totin’heroin supplier
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| On the low dawg, no phone calls, got my shit wired
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| Bust for my niggas, shh, hush for my niggas, all of us survivors
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder
|
| You got a gun on you, I got a gun on me, both of us could fire
|
| I’m a Ruff Ryder, uhh, faggots |