Ryder Musik

2-5!!!!!!!!!
GQ Beats!!!!
Yeah Christ Castro
2-5 foreva, the Army, yeah
Hood father shit, bow down niggas
Bitch ass niggas

[Tragedy Khadafi]
Yo, yo, yo
I got bitches and live niggas that's willing to hustle
Master the pressure game putting down my muscle
Write that inadvertent crime shit my .9 spit
Reach for my neck and my wrist and swim wit the fish
Serve niggas shells wit a helluva disc
Specialist wit the briefcase cuffed to my wrist
Like Collateral knocking cowards off my list
Got guns to splatter you and just shatter your ribs
Bloody your crib, ice pick your wife and kids
Can't live like a snitch wit a lifeless bid
Follow me I'll show you where life isn't a Bridge
I'm the Reaper wit the heater and your soul is mine
Meaning it's his allow me to define what that is
That means no mo' rhyming, no mo' grinding
No mo' hundred thou chain laced wit diamonds
2-5 we back nigga reemerge the block
Have me write my rhymes all over your back wit an ox

(Chorus) Tragedy 2x
This is Ryder Musik everybody get touched
Pop their top, split their back open like a dutch
That means no mo' rhyming, no mo' grinding
No mo' hundred thou chain laced wit diamonds

[Tragedy Khadafi]
Yo, yo
You ain't neva lived this life you just playing the part
This is an art; I don't write I recite from the heart
3 to 9 locked in the box which sets in the dark
Under the dirt them dumb-dumbs tore 'em apart
For my niggas on paper reporting once a month
PO's ova their shoulder while they pissing in the cup
Double-nickel AMG that AR Mag
Bloody money hundred thou nigga brown paper bag
You stunting like you gangsta but laced in thong
And this is when I'm at my best when the pressure is on
Consecutive life sentences what I do to the song
It's like what the Government did to Bobby Seale
Like what the FEDs did to Preme and Murder Inc it's real
2-5 Black Militia bandana in arms
Spit it like the Rise N Fall of Nicholas Barnes
Run wit ridiculous killaz conspicuous cons
Mahdi is the bomb I'ma lickerish don
Spit lines that illustrate the realest crimes
My mind is designed to write two rhymes at a time
Twin Teks on the set, two nickel plated .9's
Two hooks you on the sidewalk wit both in your spine
The illest alive, 2-5 putting that work
When I die be the illest nigga put on the Earth

(Chorus) Tragedy 2x

[Tragedy Khadafi]
Yo, yo, fuck the law
Pedal to the floor, high speed chases
Till I die or locked in the box wit steel bracelets
Open cases I'm the opposite what amazes
Satellites in orbit, me and my G's is lawless
Watching us from outta space moving that raw shit
Rose color gold canary diamond is flawless
Stunt till I put the .9 nickel gleam in your back
Or the Mac in a green lines on that machine go flat
Like the plate of backwooders assortment of cognac
Niggas bow down to my feet call me Don Black
In fact black hands, black gloves and black mask
React fast 'fore I dump a clip in your black ass

(Chorus) Tragedy 2x