Ryde or Die (Remix) by DMX (Ft. Drag-On & Luniz)
Ryde or Die (Remix) by DMX (Ft. Drag-On & Luniz)

Ryde or Die (Remix)

DMX & Luniz & Drag-On * Track #1 On Turf Stories soundtrack

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Ryde or Die (Remix) by DMX (Ft. Drag-On & Luniz)

Performed by
DMXLuniz & Drag-On
About

On “Ryde or Die (Remix)” DMX, Luniz and Drag-On rap about their lives and why and how they came to be in their alpha predator positions.

Ryde or Die (Remix) Lyrics

(Background talking)

Knumskull (DMX)

Yeah Yeah, now we on the west coast (nigga)
Hooked up with my partners, Ruff Ryders
To represent the turf
Come to lay down the turf stories
To represent real brothers gettin money, on the paper chase (nigga)
We gon start off with my man, so, you know what I'm sayin, DMX let em know

DMX:
Niggas is gettin trampled on, what's all the fuss about?
Suckin my dick so hard, I'm bustin in their mouth
And then I stuff em out, four to the mid', fuck what I did
With no regard for a bid, ripped you up, while you wit your kid
Slid into the shadows, cause I'm dark like that
I bark like that, jet black, but I spark like that
Where ARE they at, when I get thirsty, shit
Ain't a nigga strong enough to stand the worst it gets
Bits, and pieces are all that's left
Niggas so scared to death, they hold they motherfuckin breath
Til I pass, cause they asked, and I smelled em
The S-P-E-L-L-E-D T-H-E-M, I spelled em
To make me have to swell one, eye up, lump up one head
Catch a body with the shottie, pump up one dead
Red alert, niggas is about to get hurt, do work
To skirts, like a jag on the merk, ARF
Night time is the right time for creepin
Vandalize your crib, rape your wife while she's sleepin
I been off the deep end, since I was semen
That's why now, I'm such a motherfuckin demon!
SCREAMIN, my bloody head off, shit on my mind I gotsta get off
Can't even hold a joint, lest I let off
A couple of rounds, from the big three pound, seven
That's about eleven hundred as of now

Chorus- (2 times)
Yukmouth (DMX):
We ride, side to side, die back to back, (nigga)
Surrounded by a wolfpack, tryin to scrap with gats
You betta ride or die, nigga ride or die, (uh huh, uh huh)
You gotta ride or die, nigga ride or die!

Drag-On:
I put a grenade in your pocket to blow your arms out
Put something black in your moms mouth, ya'll cats better calm down
This rap shit is Drag-On's now, if I catch ya'll clowns
No question what I axe (ask) ya'll clowns, I'ma gat ya'll down
For the benjamin bills, I shoulda been killed
I keeps it real though
For these plats though I leave nothin but widows
You're a gang, but so what, can you really bang with us?
Be like a phone, cause we off the hook
And ya'll better hang it up
I stay high, but I don't plan to go to heaven
I plan to burn like the furnace, til ya'll learn
Even if it's with the burners
Until your mom can dish straight, forget her son
To give her the dick, tore a clip and I stripped her one
For that's dragon, that's the one
What's blastin, that's his gun
Who's lastin, no one
So if you splashin to blow one
Like I said before, I'ma lock it down like Shaqula
So make your sister be the ??? and none back to her

Yukmouth:
After midnight, busta niggas can't even hang out
Niggas on the west, we put them dank things out
Drive by and try to blow them fuckin brains out
And cocaine drought
Survive and reside with a new clique
But use the same route
Pull the range out
Get brains pal, while I'm drivin
Live and direct, front five and a tech
Stash in the Range, but nine in the Lex
Got bitches, shining baguettes, for me
Grindin correct, for me
Signin off checks, for me
Send a bitch outta town, now she buyin the bricks, for me
Passes from the brick, homie
Keep grindin with your clique, homie
Cause on top there's no way
Cock your chromayy
Stock your monayyy
Feds caught the homayyy
It's just the monay got coppers on mayyy
Helicopters on mayyy, bust off the blockers phonayyy
Ramshack this house, put choppers on it
Bitches safe and shit, niggas takin shit
Break his wrist, pistol whip and duck tape his bitch

Chorus (2 times)

Yukmouth:
Bitch, to all my niggas locked in Rita and Simson
We still the ice cream men
Just switched it up from a truck to a great benz
We made men, and kingpins, triple-beam men
Give me a quarter key, I bet I flip a key
By the weekend, our styles are grand theiven
If not, niggas ain't leavin
Unless they bleed the demon prayer from my deacon
In front of the casket, you done it you bastard
I pack mathematics to keep it crackin
Head ride to ask it, BITCH!

DMX:
How-can-one-man-kill-so-many-and
The-sin-be-plenty-before-the-age-of-20
Life ain't worth a penny in, my book faggot
That's why I took faggot shit, I'm a crook faggot
Fat loops leather jackets, I bag it, along with
The jewels smackin tools out the hands of fools
On the strength that they don't know what they holdin
Niggas called me TAILOR cause the WAY that I be sewin
Shit up cause I get up, off my ass and SKATE
Makin more moves than U-Haul, from state to state
I speak the GREAT, and if a nigga tells you different
You turn around you ask the nigga, "FUCK is you be sniffin?"
Cause when it come to riffin, I am the riff raffin
Gots to say nuttin, niggas know they get half
And I can still laugh, at those who's toes I'm steppin on
Disrespect and pulling out a weapon on
Nice joint, I know you wish you coulda kept it on
But that's another story, don't even sweat, it's gone (echo gone)

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