Strings
Strings & Swizz Beatz
Strings
Strings & Hot Boys
Strings
Strings
Strings & Drag-On
Strings
Strings
Strings
Strings
Strings
Strings & Infamous Syndicate
Strings
Strings
[Swizz Beatz]
Millenium time, millenium time
Yo, Strings, Drag-On
Swizz-Swizz-Swizz Beatz
Yo, yo, yo (1-2-3-4)
[Chorus One: Strings]
Raise it up, in the front
Raise it up, in the back
Raise it up, on the side
Raise it up, where you at?
Raise it up, in the middle
Raise it up, in them traps
Fuck that, fuck that
Fuck that, fuck that
[Chorus Two: Strings]
Blaze it up, in the front
Blaze it up, in the back
Blaze it up, on the side
Blaze it up, where you at?
Blaze it up, in the middle
Blaze it up, in them traps
Fuck that, fuck that
Fuck that, fuck that
[Strings]
How many y'all niggas feelin this in yo' feet?
How many y'all niggas bumpin Strings in yo' Jeep?
How many y'all niggas got beef?
Packin heat, packin in yo' sleep
Niggas is hungry off in them streets
How many y'all niggas got dough out the ass?
How many y'all niggas hustlin' make it fast?
How many y'all niggas got bitches with class?
Bringin they own grass, makin they own cash
How many y'all niggas is ready for combat?
How many y'all niggas lions mistakin for tomcats?
Contacts with contracts, that's where I'm at
Legs, ass and cash for eternity, I'm stacked
Ruff Nigga Ryder, never been a law abider
What the fuck are y'all waitin for?
Motherfuckas fired up
Make my pockets lump-lump, I give you the pump-pump
Let me see you jump-jump, and shakin your rump-rump-rump
Party over here, fuck that over there
Hands in the air, drinks e'rywhere
And if wherever you from, real niggas don't care
Long as you got a fat derriere
Make that cash, make that dough
Break that trick, pimp that hoe
Nigga slow the flow, uhh, nigga slow the flow
Throw yo' hands up, my niggas puttin it down
Where my bitches at, shake that ass all around
I said throw yo' hands up, my niggas puttin it down
Where my bitches at, shake that ass all around
[Chorus One] - 2X
[Drag-On]
(Flame On!!)
All my people Ryde 'em Ruff like giddy-up
Get a nigga, pick 'im up, stick 'im up
Get the nine, hit 'im up, ambulance come pick 'im up
All my people push weight
Ain't nothin but a word to move the bird
We fly them south for the winter
Cook them up then push 'em out like dinner
Now eat.. Drag-On get enough to feed the streets
Like here's a key, take that
Who him? Break that
Y'all boys better make my kick-back
With a blade in my hand y'all see gashes
Bullets will land y'all see splashes
When I send them loose beadies
Brains on the walls like grafitis
All my peoples is millionaires
But in the hood, they still there
When I cop, let's bail out, move to Bel Air
Come back to the hood and get killed there
Get carried out, when I go to the hood
Why them girls wanna marry me now, and follow me now?
I just tell them to shut up, swallow me now
All my people them Ryder people
Put they body where you can't see them
Half of they body is stuffed tissue
Other half got you peakin
Drag got you peelin
Double R got you leakin
Swizz got your brain sodomized
Ruff Ryde or Die
[Chorus One] - 2X
[Chorus Two] - till fade
Raise It Up was written by Drag-On & Swizz Beatz & Marinna Teal.
Raise It Up was produced by Swizz Beatz.