Ryde or Die (Extended Mix)

[Intro] Ryde or Die, nigga! What, this is it right here You ain't know? ClueManatti LOX, what, Ruff Ryders, don’t get it twisted y'all, what What y'all thought, LOX wasn’t gonna take the streets over niggas? Awe man, what, yo yo yo [Verse 1: Sheek Louch] Yo, if you 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 targeting the LOX You might 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 y'all got Ya hotshots ain't got blocks, ya puta muchacha From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule And I can drop my chain in coffee and keep shit cool That’s how ice be, I’m priceless, the iciest And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest My bullets thump when I’m laced in some fly shit, punk The baby nine be on the daily, ain't 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 been done bagged Niggas hate me around when it's time to get down 'Cause with Sheek it’s like walkin' past the lost and found You come here and find yours with no drawers Topless on all fours, 'cause that's how they treat me I got my dawg visiting me some ass on GP Don't get me twisty, I drink forties and plus Crissy Bitches lock me in, ridin' Sheek Louch 'til my fuckin' cum look thin All over her chin See LOX and ClueManatti, we have all-nighters Fuckin' with us you get eternal bleedin' by Ruff Ryders [Chorus] The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders [Verse 2: Jadakiss] Hey yo I hope you ain't 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, I'mma have her stuffin my bricks Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later I been nice since niggas was watchin movies on Beta Ready to clap, everybody givin me daps Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the traps You listen to y'all shit, then listen to our shit Ain't nuttin y'all faggots could do but gossip That's the reason now y'all niggas ain't got shit Cause everytime I turn around y'all on the LOX dick Niggas thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel Give it to em at the light, like Caine's cousin Harold I'm from a place where you never tell it even if you know it And if you really got it then you ain't supposed to show it One thing about Ruff Ryders, we all spitters Exit 5 off the Saw Mill niggas, come and get us [Chorus] The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders [Verse 3: Styles P] Fuck you and your son, y'all lower than scum Show me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherfucker S-P will spin the corner while you parle' with dun I clap you, I clap him, and that's rule number one Suckin my dick, and I don't give a fuck what you spit Who you are, where you from, and who the fuck you could get Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record Y'all niggas ain't sayin shit until y'all bare weapons I'm three years older than twenty, holdin' the Henny Could rip a dollar bill but can't fold up a penny Wanna murders Styles motherfucker? Load up your semi I'm at your baby mom house on the steps tromed out Like you played the Don out? 'Bout to rip your arms out You done fucked up and did it tryna act like you wit it Gettin' two in short sleeves, three in your fitted And even when you dead, you can still fuckin get it A nigga that'll smack ya, fuck around and clap ya Styles P., your favorite rapper's favorite rapper [Verse 4: Eve] Ain't no surprise niggas, only fuck wit recognized niggas Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies niggas No types, take 'em in all shapes and size niggas No lie, prefer them ready do or die niggas 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 me like a thumb, if you want, til I cum, uh Stallion, label me, Ruff Ryde til you die wanna play with me See Double-R don't talk, we plan, make it happen Trouble your whole committee with my verse of raw rappin' Acid bitch, none comin' better than this And you the first on my list to be left lyin' in the ditch Feel that, beef with I, see I will kill that Handle your B-I or D-I-E for real cat, what [Chorus] The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders [Verse 5: Drag-On] I be the D-R, A-G, dash O-N, slash often Comma, burnin' niggas often They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin' Keep the block roastin' Light a dutch wit the flames comatosin' In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin' Realizin', every guy I'll fry if they ain't ridin' I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty Cause it got one buried, so you better run, hurry Or catch one early You wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of shit you on? You better throw your boots on and your unflammable suits on Cause I'm comin through in 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 y'all are half-ass duke And we are one whole, and y'all niggas is one slash two My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're they, firemen? You'll catch a hell of a backdraft Cause my fire retire men (aight then) [Verse 6: DMX] Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water Everyday I show another how I love a slaughter Plug your daughter, full of more holes than sponges Taxin business men for stocks over lunches With these, I shoot the breeze, and extort Enough ki's from the Cuban, to build a fuckin fort Caught up in somethin that I can't control Tryna get a hold of a bankroll that's swoll Catchin' bodies like a cold, and I stay sick so face it Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it Waste it, in the fuckin streets cause it ain't worth shit The undertaker take your ass under the earth quick, I Love money, but the scramblin's hot So I snatch up my man and hit the gamblin' spot Twenty grand has got, one nigga shot, one nigga less What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fucking vest