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