Ryde or Die lyrics

[Intro: Styles P & Sheek Louch]
Ride or die, n*gga
What? This is it right here
You ain't know?
Huh, man, hah
Huh, man
What? Yo, yo, yo, yo

[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
Ayo, if you gon' sleep on somethin', might as well be a bed
And if you gon' crack a n*gga, might as well be a head
'Cause if you target the LOX
You might as well target a box
That you gon' sleep in for years, all covered with 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 motherf*cker rule
Enough to drop my chain in coffee and keep sh*t cool
That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest
And I dont gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest
My bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly sh*t, 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 sh*t paid for, yours tagged
And every b*tch you grabbed, Sheek been done bagged
[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Hey, yo, I hope you ain't tongue-kissin' your spouse
'Cause I be f*ckin' her in the mouth
Type of n*gga buck at your house
Too slick, means she be suckin' my di*k
And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin' my bricks
Jada, if I kiss you now, you die later
I been nice since n*ggas was watchin' movies on Beta
Ready to clap, everybody givin' me daps
'Cause believe it or not, be the ones settin' the traps
You listen to y'all sh*t, then listen to our sh*t
Ain't nuttin' y'all faggots could do but gossip
That's the reason now y'all n*ggas ain't got sh*t
'Cause every time I turn around y'all on the LOX di*k
n*ggas that's narrow, I just smack 'em with the barrel
Give it to 'em at the light, like Caine's cousin Harold

[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]
Man, f*ck you and your son, y'all lower than sc*m
Show me the money, I'll show you a gun, motherf*cker
S-P'll spin the corner while you parle' with dun
I clap you, I clap him, and thats rule number one
Suckin' my di*k, and I dont give a f*ck what you spit
Who you are, where you from, and who the f*ck you could get
'Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record
Y'all n*ggas ain't sayin' sh*t until y'all bare weapons
And even when you dead, you can still f*ckin' get it
A n*gga that'll smack ya, f*ck around and clap ya
Styles P., your favorite rapper's favorite rapper
[Verse 4: Eve]
Ain't no surprise, n*ggas, only f*ck with recognized n*ggas
Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies n*ggas
No ties, take em in all shapes and size n*ggas
No lie, prefer them ready do or die n*ggas
What? What you want? cutie 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 c*m, uh

[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' n*ggas often
They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin
Keep the block roastin'
Light a dutch with the flames coma-toastin'
In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin
Realizin', every guy I'll fry or dead ride
I burn to a degree of 130, 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 sh*t you on?
You better throw your boots on and your unflammable suits on
'Cause I'm comin' through in a Yukon
Black tinted with 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 n*ggas 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]
It's my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water (What?)
Everyday I show another how I love a slaughter (What?)
Plug your daughter, full of more holes than sponges (Uh)
Taxin' businessmen for stocks over lunches (Come on)
With these, I shoot the breeze, and extort
Enough ki's from the Cuban, to build a f*ckin' fort (What?)
Caught up in somethin' that I can't control
Tryna get a hold of a bankroll that's swoll
Catchin' bodies like a cold (Uh), and I stay sick so face it (Uh)
Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it (What?)
Waste it, in the f*ckin' streets 'cause it ain't worth sh*t (Come on)
The undertaker take your ass under the earth quick, I (Come on)
Love money, but the scramblin's hot (Uh)
So I snatch up my man and hit the gamblin' spot (Uh)
Twenty grand has got, one n*gga shot is one n*gga less
What used to be his chest is now a mess under his f*ckin' vest