Ryde Or Die (feat. DMX, The Lox, Eve & Drag-On)

Ryde or die

What?

Ruff Ryders

Yo, yo, yo, yo, eh, yo

Yo, if you gon' sleep on something, might as well be a bed

And if you gon' ****, 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 with rocks

'Cause I think not, I,****  I double what y'all got

Ya hotshots ain't got blocks, ya **** muchacha

From the days in school, now I mother**** rule

Enough to 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 **** out your ****

My **** thump when I'm laced in some fly **** punk

The baby nine be on me daily, ain't no popping a trunk

But if I pop the trunk it's to hand you a rag

So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my Jag

Must I brag?

My whip paid for, yours tagged

Then every chick you grabbed, Sheek been done bagged, what?

Hey yo, I hope you ain't tongue kissing your spouse

'Cause I be making love ****

Type of cat **** at your house

Too slick, means she be buffing my tip

And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffing my ****

Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later

I been nice since people was watching movies on Beta

Ready to clap, everybody giving me daps

'Cause believe it or not, we be the ones setting the traps

You listen to y'all hits, then listen to our hits

Ain't nothing y'all cowards could do but gossip

That's the reason now y'all playas ain't got chips

'Cause every time I turn around y'all on the LOX ****

But those that's narrow, I just smack 'em with the ****

Give it to 'em at the light, like Caine's cousin Harold

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

Cut you and your son, y'all lower than scum

Show me the money, I'll show you a ****, pop sucker

S P will spin the corner while you parle with dun

I clap you I clap him, and that's rule number one

Sucking my **** and I don't give a hell what you spit

Who you are, where you from, and who the hell you could get

'Cause I sell records, plus I got a jail record

Y'all **** ain't saying shh until y'all bare weapons

And even when you dead, you could still flinch and get it

A rider that'll smack ya, cock back and clap ya

Styles P, your favorite rapper's favorite rapper

Ain't no surprise **** only run with recognized ****

Baby girl want the world, share their pies ****

No tops, take 'em in all shapes and size ****

No lie, prefer them ready do or die ****

What? What you want?

Cutie staring at me like

Damn, where you from?

You be coming at me like

Can I get some?

Lick you lips for this brown sugar

**** me like a thumb

If you want, till I uh

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

I be the D-R-A-G, dash O-N, slash often

Comma, burning **** often

They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorching

Keep the block roasting

Light a dutch with the flames comatose-ing

In my eyes you could see what summer's holding

Realizing, every guy I'll fry or dead ride

I burn to a degree of one thirty

My gun dirty

'Cause it got one buried, so you better run, hurry

Or catch one early

You wrong trying to touch me, what type of s****you on?

You better throw your boots on and you unflammable suits on

'Cause I'm coming through in a Yukon

Black tinted with **** in it

Catch you while you smoking

Send your casket, throw a sack in it

But only half of it, 'cause y'all a half **** dude

And we are one whole, and all y'all **** is one slash two

My **** **** you, tryna out the flames

What are ya, firemen?

You'll catch a hell of a backdraft

'Cause my fire retire men

It's my survival instinct that keeps my head above the water

Every day, I show another how I love a slaughter

**** your daughter, full of more **** than sponges

Taxing businessmen for stocks over lunches

With these, I shoot the breeze and extort

Enough **** from the Cuban to build a **** fort

Caught up in something that I can't control

Tryna get a hold of a bankroll that's swoll

Catching **** 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 **** streets 'cause it ain't worth ****

The undertaker take you **** under the earth quick, I

Love money, but scrambling's hot

So I snatch up my man and hit the gambling spot

Twenty grand has got on **** shot, one **** less

What used to be his chest is now a mess under his **** vest