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D-Block Album

We Are The Streets (01/25/2000)
Intro (Skit)
Can I Live (feat. Kasino)
Built For Bodies (Skit)
Felony Niggas (Styles P solo)
Blood Pressure (Jadakiss solo)
Rape'n You Records (Skit)
U Told Me (feat. Eve)
Brains...(Take 1) (skit)
Ryde Or Die, Bitch (feat. Timbaland & Eve)
Bring It On (Sheek Louch solo)
. . .


[No lyrics]

. . .

Feel this

If your hoped we wouldn't make it, fuck you (fuck you)
Talk with a heart full of hatred, fuck you (fuck you)
And you said we wouldn't cake it, fuck you (fuck you)
Only my man blood is sacred, cocksucker, fuck you

Yo, everybody's a snake
That's why I try to keep the grass cut
So I can see 'em when they coming
Then I heat they ass up
Cuz' them niggas that you went to school with
Will catch you while you in your new whip
And turn your brains into Cool Whip
Niggas that you running round getting ass with
Ain't gon' help you do nothing but carry your casket
Got the nerve to ask Kiss why I smoke so much
And how I'm such a young nigga that seem to know so much
While you was running round pumping for niggas
I was listening
And you still pumping for niggas
I'm coming through visiting
You heard, L-O-X came through in a yellow Lex
And hop out with the Air Force One's with yellow checks
And you liable to see me Dolo, icing the Rolo
Burner under the Polo, alot of y'all is homos
Funny style niggas never down with me
Type that go to the bathroom, sit down and pee
I'll empty your house, back of your cribs, smacking your kids
Bullets going through your leather, cracking your ribs
Don't even hit me on my hip if I ain't give you a call
And I ain't got a home phone number, I live on the road
Now I'm getting bigger checks, conference calls with bigger 'xecs
Bigger bracelets with bigger begets,
Fuck y'all
All I do is get high, and think of faving you all
Motherfuckers hit 'cha knees and just pray to the Lord
I'd rather die today than live tomorrow
Then watch you crab motherfuckers just steal and ball
Put in my work, you might get put in a church
Funeral time, everybody kissing the corpse
Learn the ropes, stone rip if you soft, you pissing me off
Call me S.P., and I spit on your boss
You can die cause this shit might happen to me
But I'mma still happen to be, packin the 3
Fuck with bitches that be wrappin the keys
And the niggas that bug over drug money, clappin the D
Shoot in the breeze, 9 in the boot, full of trees
1 in the morning, catch me with a gun on the corner
Let you know it's all real and you can front if you wanna
I understand, fuck it dog, die in the can
I say you pussy, you won't die for your right-hand man
As well as your left, niggas trip, fell into death
They touch you, only thing else to say is fuck you
[Sheek Luchion]
A-yo, y'all niggas ain't hardcore, all my niggas is homicide
What you know about getting shot, letting the drip dry
Letting the spit fly, seeing sparks whiz by
Putting a M*A*S*H on niggas like Klinger and Horgi
So soft you smushy, I blast 'til your shit is gushy
Should be the head Cat in the Broadway play, you pussy
Fuck with Sheek, Ouija board spell "Death"
You can talk that beef shit, I hope that deep shit
Be as deep as you inside the fucking cement
Or you can deep sea dive, with no scuba gear
I'll drown you with your snorkel on, bitch, breathe out of there
Whole team rich, never seen a summer like this
Baking hot, and you can sled ride down my wrist, neck, and hand
When it comes to coke, I can make a snowman, shit
Play in this shit make a angel with it
And I don't give a fuck about that 380 that y'all share
Between the 10 y'all with the same 8 bullets from last year
When I bust I use snubs, denim flee in the spot
The hand I write with need a oven glove, my shit so hot
I want the most, Roley only work when it's next to my post
Fuck a present gimme a yacht master, regular bezzy
Then I'm good when I'm in the hood and I'm on the block
You got a gut feeling about shit, nigga, that means you shot, what

If you hoped we wouldn't make it, fuck you
Talk with a heart full of hatred, fuck you
And you said we wouldn't cake it, fuck you
Only my man's blood is sacred, cocksucker, fuck you

I'll tell you in your face, fuck you
Pull it off my waist, hit you up, fuck you
And watch you die on the street, fuck you
Whoever feel sad at the funeral, fuck them too

. . .

(feat. Kasino)

Can I Live?
Hell yeah but you still gon die
Cmon nigga you a thug
But I'm still gon cry
And you done learned off experience
I'm still gon ride
They kill me, you gon kill them?
I still got pride
Can I Live?
Hell yeah but you still gon die
Cmon nigga you a thug
But I'm still gon cry
And you done learned off experience
I'm still gon ride
They kill me, you gon kill them?
I still got pride

Yo now I done said everything I could possibly say
Ask them niggas in your camp is you hotter than J. A.
D.A.K.I. two S's
A true message
Y'all better wear a few vesses
Live pussies
Bout to be dead dicks
I pack guns that shoot through schools the red bricks
And just because you mighta seen me on the award show
I'm still in the hood nigga gettin raw dough
And later on tonight I might be hittin your hoe
And I got more money so I'm coppin more dro
Everything I said I meant B
Y'all gon tempt me
To rob y'all spend your whole stash on my empties
Mwa yours truly
Can't do nothing to me
Think you Scarface but you aint see the end of the movie
I'm the type of nigga that'll take 5 cakes
Turn em into 5 acres
Faster than 5 lakers
Lay back, get high, tote my gun around
Throw a string on the pony so I can tote my son around

Ay yo
The path I walk is filled
Who the fuck won't I kill
Thin as that line down the hundred that you can tell if it's real
Smooth as Sinatra
You can tell by my pops that I'm street
Fuck the forecast I'll let you know what day'll be heat
See I recruit smart niggas will hunt
No dumb niggas
Who will kill over money not bitches like some niggas
I think marketable
Fuck y'all niggas who stay bummin
I'm that nigga sellin pills at all of Howard homecomings
If you get high I got weed
And if you get drunk I got vodka
And if you want base I got popcorn like Orville Reddenbacher
See I'm bullseye
I empty my bananna in your bandanna
First try
Never will my bullets miss a vick
I use one to do a hit
On some professional shit
(Ha that's crazy)


Outta three-fourths of them niggas who cross your path
Minus them half ass who talk fast and finish last
Who gon get his cash
Turn to his man and give him half
Cock the hammer back
Stood by his side and didn't dash
When the charge is federal
And they fingerprint his ass
Who can he trust to be
Front of the judge screamin it's just me
It must be
More than just a nigga love
Make em do five joints no contact without givin his niggas up
Give his keys to his truck
Wish his niggas luck
Call it's best fit suggested that she let his niggas fuck
Fingerfuck them figures up
No parole
Bigger truck
Kasino is that name big enough
Nigga what

You wouldn't bust your gat wit me
If you never sat wit me
Lit up a sack wit me
Or hustle some crack wit me
Came through the cipher bow down and spat wit me
Hopped up the truck and gave niggas daps wit me
You never laugh wit me
Never went half wit me
Never been through the struggle never felt the wrath wit me
Never slept on the same floor or
Hit the same whore
Ran up in the same store
Or with the same four
Blood thicker than water
Only in certain cases
You need water to live you learn that in the basics
Better cherish your aces
Bullets in the faces
Of the jokers
We laugh at fire nigga we smokers
Sittin on the sofa
Puffin the hash nigga we focused
Why lie I die where the coke is


. . .

Built For Bodies

[No lyrics]

. . .

SP Killer
Yeah yeah yeah, L-O-X, L-O-X motherfucker
Niggas don't know how we bout to come this time
No more shiny suits
None of that shit

[Chorus: x2]
[Sheek Luchion]
We gonna R.U double F.R.Y.D.E
Revolver, semi-automatic and a P.G.
Hooptie getaway driver Breathe Easy
[Sheek Luchion]
Explain thing further
Murder or get murdered

[Verse 1:]
[Styles Paniro]
Half of the hustle, half of them killers
All of them Niggas wanna kill Paniro
Better send the guerrilla's
Cause beef is like a brand new car
You better ride
Everytime I sleep I die
Wish I was gone (ya know)
Felt dumb when I was young
I used to wish I was on
I'ma stay blunted and red with one in the head
Niggas thinkin' they the don
Till their shit get bombed
I put 4 in your shootin' arm
2 in your legs
Like 10 in your chest
The last one in your head
I give you the whole clip,
like you cheated and stole shit
Knocked off the pack, flossed and no chips
You know the business
Empty rap kill your co-defendant
Keep it male and catch a body in trial
If you want a Nigga dead than do it Holiday Styles
Come with 2 guns up and empty both off the clips
Kill you whole fuckin' crew and go 'n smoke on the fifth

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 2:]
[Sheek Luchion]
Yo, yo, yo
I come to your town on a Peter Pan, no Jack
One pair of clothes, 2 hoes and buggy with that
Wanna beef me?, y'all Niggas is borrowin' heat
Callin' all across town to borrow a full pound
Meanwhile this Nigga got his guns to your noggin
While your man with the heat is with some bitch up in the project
He clappin' at you, you duckin', makin' you dance
You should have spent it on some guns
Instead of Iceberg pants
What, L.O.X. off top, pullin' our triggers
With our guns on our lap, we ride around like Cali Niggers(WESTSIIIDE)
Target motherfuckers, cold hearted motherfuckers
Stead of young dumb your moms, and whoever she got with her
There's a new-born in the house,
then I'm killin' the babysitter
Y'all Niggas all clowns in Sheek eyes
Your moms would wear glasses,
with the nose disguise around me
Talkin greasy
Y'all like watermelons
Big but crack easy

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse 3:]
Now if you know Jay,
I never been a brother to front
I be in L.A. wearin' any colors I want
Rock guns like shirts, block under the punk
And I put somethin' hot, anyone of you chumps
And I know a few of you wanna get my watch
But it a be funeral if you get my watch
It ain't nothing y'all can do to stop the Lox' wealth
Run up in a gunstore, cop the top shelf
The Crack-game is dead, all they want is weed now
Chicks that I went to school with, a seed now
You know Kiss, stocky bald head, light brown
Ice down, in my roll look like nighttown
To all y'all lil' Jada's for the 1000th time
I recall hittin' your moms or writin' your rhymes
And just because you might have seen me,
in and out of your house
Is no way that she gon have a baby out of her mouth

[Chorus: till end]

. . .

[Verse 1]

Shhh (Two guns up mothafucka, Two guns up mothafucka) [overlap]
Real shit...Styles P Shit..
If P want you dead, I aint comin' wit niggas
Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor
So ya homies got something to pour
That's that old school shit
I aint tryin' to put you under the floor
I'm tryin' ta bang niggas over the clouds
and I heard you say you rich
so you can't get lower than Styles
kill everybody dead just so noone can smile
play the streets my whole life and i been flowin' a while
biget i rock, ever since my nigga was shot and my other nigga
was shoot shit i'm tellin' the truth
If I lie, may I die in the middle of the verse
My niggas hustle from first to first
Twelve months in a year
Gun on your waist, Blunt in your ear
Pat in your sock, Trade at the back of the block
With a fein watchin' for knorx till the shit get dark
We jump in the hoop ride, instead of the six
While you lookin' for a bitch, we lookin' for a brick
That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix
Catch me on "?" gettin' sixty a shift
Holidy Styles, nigga I aint nothin' but streets
Just as hard as the shit, that be under your feet
And the only time i front is with a blunt and a beat
To show niggas that I'm nice and they aint fuckin' wit me


Felony Niggas
Cop Cock Heavily Niggas
That'd arm rob seventy niggas
You know
Murderin' niggas
You want doe, they servin' you niggas
Stay on fifth, Gettin' swervin' on niggas
You know
Wheather we ryde or we die we gonna get this doe

[Verse 2]

All I know is drugs and guns
and plenty of weed
and that bitch that suck dick
and niggas that bleed
and if you're rich before you go
get a watch and a drop
you better hit the court house
and better bail out the block
if your son aint worth shit
niggas'll smuggle your daughter
I come through in a Porshe
The same color as water
I got weight, what you want
I can cover the order
They call me Boss when I cross the border
Six shot "caught her?"
I hear niggas say my face is screwed
But I'll put six in your stomach nigga
lace your food
Scream "Fuck Every Rapper" that hate that I'm rude
But that's that SP shit, you can take it or move
We can let the bullets spill, till we all get killed
There's only six nice rappers
If you wanna be real
Niggas die everyday from talking that dumb shit
That where they're from shit
All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick
Just another dumb bitch
Go to church to get the holy ghost
I did my dirt and got the holy ghost
Look at the world through a niggas eyes
Dont be a bitch, you gonna live and die
Rivin' in the sky, but no love when you slither by
I pray to god that we make it to heaven
But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven
You know four, five and seven, hot as fuck
And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us
But since niggas still alive they should be tellin you somethin'
You aint hear from Holiday, he aint tellin' you nothin'
You know..cocksucker..

[Chorus x2]

. . .

Crazy Time!
Whoa (My Dawgs)
Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, (OK)
Whoa, Whoa (yo,yo,yo), Whoa, (yo, yo, yo)
Whoa, (yo) WHoa, (yo) Whoa, Whoa

[Chorus 1]
Wild Out!! (cmon)
Wild Out!! (uh huh)
Wild Out!! (If ya glad that L-O-X is Ruff Rydin now!!, cmon niggas)
Wild Out!! (whooo, what, what)
Wild Out!! (wild out, wild out, wild out)
Wild Out!! (All My niggas throw your guns up, yo ,yo)

I know niggas in the clink
That send pipe bombs thru sinks
That got dough and still wanna stick y'all wit minks
Y'all would think y'all was jinxed wit a month of bad luck
I'm that huntin muthafucka and guess who da duck
I'm Elmer and you Daffy like the Looney cartoon
But this ain't no cartoon
My bullets clear out the room
I said "Boy, try to learn the fundamentals here, son."
Like that rooster and that chicken hawk I teach about a gun
I place my money on one
I'll pull it out, you'll run
I wave it in front of ya son and both y'all is done . . . Blah!
For God's sakes, what a nigga gotta do to make a half a million
Must I wave it at yo' children?
Run up in yo' buildin and go straight for the bank
Got the coke saran-wrapped at the bottom of the tank
I know those tricks
Ya suppliers, Papi and them, I know those dicks
Give me those bricks
Now, wild out niggas

[Hook 2:]
Wild Out!! (uh, uh, uh, uh, yo!)
Wild Out!! (ok)
Wild Out!! (If ya bouncin in da club actin like you cant get in!)
Wild Out!! (what, uh)
Wild Out!!(yo, yo, yo ,yo)
Wild Out!! (Yo, yo ,yo ,yo ,yo ,yo)

For every check I deposit, it's just a new burner in the closet
And the big one'll kill you, ya brother and ya pops quick
Might take one slug to get y'all both
Cuz muthafucka, I'ma make sure I hit y'all close
And whoever's left guarenteed he gettin it all
Cuz his ass coulda ran when I was lookin at y'all
I get rap money, plus I'm in the hood wit dimes
And I ain't got no felonies, I'm good wit crimes
Not all dat wit macs, but i'm good wit nines
Great wit eights
Nigga, I'll heat ya face
And I got a hungry lawyer that'll eat the case
I used to cop so heavy that the block got mad
And niggas start callin up the cops like cabs
My 16's make niggas go to they dorm
Lock in and workout, then come out in the mornin
Wild out and blow a CO jus cuz it's borin
Wild out nigga

[Hook 3:]
Wild Out!! (yo, yo ,yo)
Wild Out!! (yo, yo ,yo)
Wild Out!!
(If ya just got outta jail from doin wild time, lets bawl out!)
Wild Out!! (yo!)
Wild Out!!(ok, cmon cmon)
Wild Out!! (uh, uh, uh, uh)

I pray to the Allah
But I'm too foul to go to the mosque
And if it's beef, I'ma murder you and go to da squad
Holiday Styles
Screw niggas far as they rap
I let my shotgun ball ya bat
Make ya coffin outta ya plaques
And bring ya ice to hell
Y'all fuck around dis album, I'll do life in jail
And if you under 21, you shouldn't listen to dis
You hate a nigga, go and kill him while he takin a shit
So, when the cops come and get him he'll be makin 'em sick
So, they could feel how I feel
I had a probable cause
You know da shit that happens when you don't follow da boss
Follow the rules
Kids get followed to school
And the thug niggas ball ya boo
Target practice was a horrible view
It's fucked up what tomorrow can do
And these niggas feel sorrow for who?
'Til we put you in da dirt, we ain't partin wit you
Wild out niggas

[Hook 4]
Wild Out!! (ya better back up dawg)
Wild Out!! (everybody, yo, yo)
Wild Out!!
(If a nigga grillin your chick, uh, and she wit you, fuck that!)
Wild Out!! (yo, what?)
Wild Out!!(Cmon, cmon, cmon, I cant hear you!, cmon)
Wild Out!! (If ya find ya nigga cheatin, lets go girls!, cmon now!)
Wild Out!! (uh, yo!)
Wild Out!! (cmon cmon)
Wild Out!! (If a nigga step on ya gotdamn shoes, fuck that!)
Wild Out!! (uh huh uh huh)
Wild Out!! (yo, yo, whoa!)
Wild Out!! (If a nigga owe you money, and aint paid ya yet!, fuck that!)
Wild Out!! (cmon, oohh)
Wild Out!! (what what!)
Wild Out!! (If ya workin at a job and the boss fire you, fuck HIM!)
Wild Out!! (uh!)
Wild Out!!(yo, yo ,LOX Niggas, LOX Niggas)
Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!!
(whoa, whoa, whoa, everybody!)
Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!! [pause]
(anybody, young niggas, dead bitches!, tear it up!)
Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!! Wild Out!!
Wild Out!! (
Who? Swizz Swizz Beatz (uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)
2 thou- Millenium (Millenium)
Money makin plenty-em
you hear that
L-O-X, L-O-X, L-O-X, we here!

[Answering Machine Recording]
Yo, kiss man
I'm tired, I'm not doin a verse today, man
I'll do this shit tomorrow, man
Do da hook and everything, man
Just save me 16 bars
I'll be there tomorrow
I'm watchin a fight and chillin, tired man

. . .

The headphones is on fire dis time around, Styles
Blood Pressure
Y'all just bear wit me
Yo, last time I'ma tell these niggas, man
Can't fuck around, man
Jada, man
Old nigga, new nigga
Wha!! Yo, yo, yo...

[Verse 1: Jadakiss]

Who really da best rapper since B.I.G. ain't here
Y'all know da answer to dat when Kiss ain't here
When you see me, don't ask me nothin about us
And don't definatly ask me nothin about...
Fuck it
You owe me one, I owe you two
I woulda smacked you wit da burner, but I know you'd sue
And I ain't talkin to him
I'm talkin to you
Matter of fact, I'm talkin to y'all
Life is like walkin a yard
Nigga'll stab you wit a fork in da heart
And The Source got muthafuckas thinkin they hot
Like my dope
Got fiends thinkin they shot
When you thinkin of da best, nigga
Think of The Lox
I'll cut ya fuckin hand off if ya pinky ring's hot
Then come thru ya block in a sticky green drop
Hop out
Let off fifty-three shots
Wouldn't care if I hit fifty-three cops
Guliani might as well be merkin niggas
Cuz the time that he givin out is hurtin niggas
And all these record label's jerkin niggas
And you never was a thug, you's a workin nigga
And you heard that shit right there?
I started that
Don't make me put somethin up in ya Starter hat
No matter who you are, or where you from
Screw all of dat
I'm not tryin to hear dat, son

[Hook: x2]

Now, who da fuck y'all want? (Jadakiss!!)
And who da fuck y'all need? (Jadakiss!!)
And who da fuck gon' bleed?
All y'all hataz, cuz none of y'all niggas (can't fuck wit Jada!!)

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]

Don't you be dat clown nigga in da back of da whip
That's gon' get the second half of da clip
And all I'm sayin, it'll be da other nigga in the front of the da whip
Runnin his lip, wit a gun on his hip
Feel me dawg?
Everybody walk da walk 'til they run into Kiss
Then, they get stabbed, or hung, or stung wit da fifth
How you think ya man hard when son on my dick?
Cuz I can get his ass body, plus front him a brick
Got a chick named Super-head
She give super-head
Just moved in the buildin, even gave the super head
I cop big guns that spit super lead
So, play Superman, end up super dead
Call ne Kiss, or da kid from The Lox
That'll twist ya moms out and do a bid wit ya pops
We was in jail, you probably won't get no mail
And if you pumped on my block, you won't get no sales
When ya CEO know you can't fuck wit I
I make a million by June
I'm sayin fuck July
And I beg you to try me while I'm holdin da Tommy
I'ma have ya body all over da lobby
I already helped y'all
I'm about to melt y'all
Tell the truth, dawg
I ain't never felt y'all
This album, we gon' bubble like Seltzer
If it ain't Double R, who da hell else is hard?!

[Hook until end]

. . .

Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff
Huh...Ruff Ryders (Ryde or Die (overlap))
Don't get it twisted ya'll (yea yea yea (overlap)
Ruff Ryders..(..ta fuck i'm talking about right here)
Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
Don't get it twisted ya'll (yea yea yea (overlap)
Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
Don't get it twisted ya'll (yea yea yea (overlap)

Now I know you couldn't wait to hear 'Kiss over Premier
Kill you on tape then, watch it over a beer
cause you ain't nothing but a movie with expensive footage
That's the reason they gon' leave you with expensive bullets
Ain't none of y'all better than LOX
Have all of y'all dressed up in a suit, dead in a box
Me and my niggas get Redd-er than Foxx
And I don't care if I love you, I still want head of the drop
Niggas runnin' round talkin' that Y-2-K shit
Crackheads'll still gon' want that gray shit
that's why I'ma always cop the yay quick
so I suggest all of y'all stay on Jay dick
Too hard for MTV, not black enough for BET, just let me be
Give me all my royalty money, and let me greed
and I'ma have hoes for six, and hash for three


Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
Don't get it twisted y'all
Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
L to the O to the X (fade)
Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
Don't get it twisted y'all
Recognize, Recognize, Recognize (Ruff Ryders)
L O X niggas (fade)
Don't get it twisted y'all

[Sheek Luchion]
Ayo I give it to you point blank, in your mom's place
So like +Point Break+ with a mask on with president's face
clear my space, when big sheek crash the boards
Y'all aint just mark niggas, y'all Hallmark niggas
With all that soft ass writin might as well be in cards
You gon' gamble with your life, when I launch these torpedos
that'll shoot the crack out your ass at Foxwood Casinos
Just me and my gambino's drunk as fuck
with a time parking lot DVD in a trunk
I been drunk most my life, don't ask me why
Through ninth grade, I ain't go to high school
I went to school high
And I don't care what y'all got, that shit don't excite me
I'm black and deadly and my burner just like me
and I'm quick to stick one of y'all on tour
with the Sheraton, see what yours can be mine
without, inheritin, give up your chains
and them little diamonds in your ear
Is it worth your family cryin and the doctor yellin "clear"?


[Styles Pinero]
If I knew heaven had a ghetto that was sweeter than here
You know P would pack his bag and just leave next year
but I got a son to raise
So I'ma stay in this hell and I gotta gun to blaze
If you play with the L dot O dot X dot at the end
we the niggas that's gon' leave, with the pot at the end
Never too young to die or too old to live
? to bust your gun, go home and mold your kid
I'm ashamed I sell crack but I'ma ryde for the moment
Know the concequence I'ma die with +The Omen+
Two is better than one, there's three of The LOX
Ki in a pot, key in the drop, key to the top
father, son, and holy ghost of rap
3 in a 1 seein a gun and usin' it dog
Dope in a six, coke in a five, weed in a four
Ice is for my niggas, but the heat is for y'all

[Chorus: loop recognize/fade]

. . .

Rape'n You Records

[No lyrics]

. . .

Two guns up motherfucker
Uh huh
Niggaz runnin around yappin with dicks in they mouth
My Niggaz
Shit is serious L.O.X.
Couldn't even put three niggaz togehther and come up
With this combination (faggot)
Shit is fo' real

I pack a 4 5
Puff a blunt and get high
Don't give a fuck if I die cuz my son is alive
I grew up doing dumb shit that made me wise
Could of died ten times
That made me live
Sell my soul
Not for no cars and gold
I been through it cuz my scars is old
Remember the time
I used to puff dimes
And think Allah was cold
Back then when my mom played my father's role
Now I'm a man
Runnin with a gun in the vest
It feel good with my son on my chest
I wanna quit
But I'm one of the best
Fuck around I might run to the west
Lay low and get blunted to death
Niggaz is wack
I can't say it plainer than that
Dog you shine in the front but it rain in the back
Fuck the middle
Cuz the middle do alot and a little
Stuck in between but y'all niggaz won't see the riddle
Settle for less
A general but don't meddle my chest
Die for my niggas nevertheless
Can't find a nigga better than S, 'Kiss, and the Luch'
Every man ahead of the group, regretting the coup
Y'all niggas want the red in my boots
Hole in my shirt
Twist a nigga wig and leave me dead in the dirt
I see the rollie not move but the shit still work
Motherfucker that'll make you a jerk, cocksucker

Ay yo what y'all gon do now
Y'all fucked up now
How deep is your crew now
Y'all fucked up now
Don't make us heat you down (you know what I'm sayin ?diego?)
Y'all fucked up now (This aint no fuckin joke niggas is hungry)
We the nicest niggas around (Fuck is wrong)
Y'all fucked up now (yeah yeah ay yo ay yo ay yo)

I pay off blue suits thats Sucio
And I put drugs in my girl koochie yo
A bad bitch that kill
So when you put the dogs on her you smell Massengill Summer's Eve
Puttin drugs in coffee hip to the D's
I play smarter
That's why my flights now be charter
Ten seater
What you know about a Porsche at a meter
Next to koochie freak those
Tickets keep those
And you can mail to my postbox down in Melrose
I aint the nigga that you see
Posted on cop walls
I'm that eighteen and up
Mamis on my balls
Y'all can't figure the great one
Sheek be Jason
Not cops
But that legendary nigga my pops
I bust shots like bums at a bar but far
From a lush
Everything about this cat be plush
And I'm quick to do dirt since I'm through your shirt
Like nothing
Lift a arm I hit those under your wing
Yo why you following this cat
Hey he about to get pushed back
You could poke your chest out in the street
That's cool
But in a bing this fool
Was like Louis Rich meat
We don't run from y'all
We scatter for guns on y'all
What you know about two 380's inside a basketball
And when it's beef
Store on his side with burners on Coronas
We the best that ever did it
If you need us telephone us
What the fuck nigga


A nigga wanna go to war with Kiss
Find him a ditch
Old school niggas tell me I remind of rich
Cuz I take the kids shopping and send em on bus trips
Hoppin out a rough six
With sweats and scuffed kicks
I supply all the dealers and tell em to stuff nix
I done signed every autograph and took every flick
I'm quite sure that I coulda hit
Every chick
But I didn't ones that I did gave em heavy dick
All day
The LOX flow hotter than broadway
Election time tryin na cop blow in the hallway
And their aint enough plates for y'all to eat with me
Stingy nigga but I share my slugs equally
I put half where your waist at
And half where your face at
Yo we in from a new spot let somebody taste that
From your street rappin's only one of my plans
I got dirty south niggas payin a hundred a gram
And I could care less how much you shift the scan
However you get it you supposed to hit your man
But we don't hold the grudges
We control the budgets
And do whatever the fuck we wanna do nigga fuck it


. . .

One , one , one
It's the second time around!
Ya know , ya heard , (y'all know who this is)
The real L.O.X. (no doubt)
As we proceed
To get rid of that bullshit (that's right)
And give you what you need

Scream L
Cuz we livin and we love the life
Scream O
We official and we override
Scream X
Cuz we experts and experienced (who is it nigga)
We gon kill till we die and be ruff when we ride
(One more time c'mon)
Scream L
Cuz we livin and we love the life
Scream O
We official and we override
Scream X
Cuz we experts and experienced
We gon kill till we die and be ruff when we ride

Who that kid that
Fly in his truck
High as fuck
Mami on my side she weeded I'm henneseyed up
Wet like flipper
Dick on my zipper
Kind of soft
Waitin for this bitch to finish her weed to suck me off
I'm done now
Step out my truck then peep out my style
Place a hundred in this bum cup in front of Mr. Child
Glock 19
Laser beam
Fuck it no vest today
No stress today , that's how I'm feelin today
But if y'all shoot you think I won't put this bitch in my way
I got love for my niggas that's deeper than lava
Hotter than lava
You point him out I'll pop the revolver
Two years in jail and I don't need no package or nothing
Sheek Louch true to this shit
Y'all niggas is frontin
We some evil motherfuckers you can tell when we smirk
Comes to money we aint got no patience like doctors who don't work
We drink till it don't hurt
And the pain go away
Now who you know out there who's fuckin with Sheek, Styles, and J

What comes around goes around and I'm waitin to die
I smoke weed in a cloud make my face in the sky
I get blasted off the liquor, sell drugs, carry a 5th
Fuck with my dogs
Till they put me in a morgue
And even when I'm alone it's me and my toast
Me and my ghost
I wonder who get heated the most
If you didn't live the life you probably couldn't relate
I turn your face into pudding in the hood with an 8th
Niggas beef over crack sales
Scrap over hood rats
Die over dice games
You fuckin with us
And I'ma still pop shit ridin up on a bus
Like I'ma fuck a nigga up when I'm outta these cuffs
And blow three niggas down cuz only cowards'll bluff
Play it sweet when it's sour as fuck
Calicoed up
Money and the jewels and the powder is up
I'ma make a nigga leak like I hit him with dust

Nowadays it cost money to breathe
That's why I tote around three
Ankle to waist and one in my sleeve
Fuck security y'all can give that money to me
Cuz when the bullets go off they be under the tree
I'm at your chick's house bagging up
Groupies styled out
The Kool-Aid too sweet and the phone don't dial out
You don't gotta like me
I show up to your wedding
Rockin a white tee
Your wife like oohh-wee
And if I dance wit her
Then I got a chance wit her
But I aint gonna do her
I'ma wait till after the honeymoon to screw her
And let niggas run through her
For y'all that's behind that wall blockin the street
Homemade doorags off the top of the briefs
Everybody get they turn to live
You just gotta know when it's your turn don't burn your bridge
And all the real niggas will die the worms'll live
And that's real fucked up but that's how shit is
Scream it


. . .

(feat. Eve)

[Sheek: ad libbing]

Now you can quote me on this
I bust my gun
Also quote me on this
I handle my biz
I knew it was my house when Run was sayin it was his
I aint lyin
Aint no cords or no steam in this iron
But it is a permanent press
Have these 38 shells spray starch your chest
Leave you stiff
Coroners make ashes of you
In rap I'm like God nigga forever above you
If I don't do it all I just dial my phone
And you get sprayed through your clothes like you put on cologne
If it's not violence or drugs I have nothing to spit
I be lyin if I talk some spiritual shit
Like Kirk Franklin and them
Y'all just aint me
I can't tell you about God but I can tell you about a key
And what I'll do to God's children if they jerk me
Hurt me , never , that'll be a sin
I'ma put the Bible to your head and shoot through Matthew verse 10
C'mon niggas

[CHORUS x2:]
[Eve and Jadakiss]
You told me you would bust your guns for me
(Yeah bust your gun dog)
You said you'd always sling your pounds
(Sling the hydro green)
Now you're away and you're all that I need
(You're all that I need baby)
But L-O-X will hold it down
(You know the LOX gonna hold it)

I'm back in the game
I still ride the back of the train
And sit right next to jake with a package of caine
Niggas say he realer than me you call him a liar
I got the outtie T T the same color as fire
You just gettin a name
Puttin shit in the game
Stop fakin
I have your doorag lookin Jamaican
Holey as the water in the front of the church
Then find you with no back plus one in your earth
I can't wait for the day you get murt
Cuz I'ma throw a free party at the Tunnel and give out work
I love myself , my family , and love my son
Love my niggas and love white Air Force Ones
And besides that I'm open off the dro and the guns
And the head you could get from a hoe in the slums
Niggas always act silly till you show em the milly
Then they got the nerve to ask you why you wanna kill me


I know it aint right
For me to swear to God
But I swear to God that I'll murder you dog
And I know it aint right
For me to sell dope
Rob stores but I still gotta run from the law
Twenty niggas in the clique
How all of us pour
In a three room apartment and we all on the floor
I reflect to the days I thought of bustin the whip
Now I come through the scene and niggas cuffin they bitch
Feel good to see Kiss spend a buck on his wrists
Or Sheek frontin on a jet ski with a Puerto Rican chick
I dont rock no jewels
But I pops my tools
And I work my coupe to do a buck 68
P hit you in the head like a dutch to the face
Or a cup full of liquor
Come and fuck with you nigga
Cuz I make drug money
Gotta take blood from me
If you wanna prove a point pull a joint shoot dummies


. . .

Brains...(Take 1)

[No lyrics]

. . .

(feat. Eve, Timbaland)

I'm feelin this hook right here
Good lookin out Timbaland, y'know?

[Timbaland (Eve)]
I need a ryde or die bitch
(I like to rock Prada suits and my ass is fat)
I need a ryde or die bitch
(I push a Cadillac truck with my friends in the back)
I need a ryde or die bitch
(Smoke 'dro, drink liquor, like to fuck 'til I cum)
I need a ryde or die bitch
(I rock a icy ass chain with a earring in my tongue)

Yo, yo, yo
Yeah, what's up ma, what's going on, I know you know 'Kiss
The nigga with the hot flow and a cold wrist
Can flow always, sit on 4 K's
Then wait for a drought and flood 'em with all 'dres
Ryde or die chick, hand do a B.I.
Give a nigga up north some ass on a V.I.
And she blackout when she in the mall
Got the brand new spring Prada shit in the fall
Don't matter what size panties, fitting her small
And she don't got no problem hittin' us all
And she said she got a man, but he in the fed
And she miss him so much that she pee in the bed
So you know I had to lighten her raw, fighting the dog
Pushing the seat back gettin' right in the fall
Make her use a fake credit card twice in a store
Might make you do it tomorrow you triflin' whore

[Styles Paniro]
I need a chick that ryde or die, pullin' the 5
Gettin' high with the Gucci frames over her eyes
Sweet to the tail, still won't fuck in the Benz
cause she bought me a Polo coat and a couple of Timbs'
Doobie was rap, both in the movie with gats
Gave me head cause the movie was wack, word
Toasted her crib, blow in the fridge, she needed to work
I died and that bitch gon' put weed in my hearse
Gamed her to death, tattooed my name on her neck
You don't wanna see me bangin' the left, hittin' the gas
That bitch out the window poppin' heat in yo' ass
You could catch Holiday in a Holiday Inn
With a bad bitch swallowin' gin, word
And if it got to do with money count Holiday in
With my ryde or die bitch that'll body your man
You don't like me as a artist, she gon' body your fam'

[Sheek Luchion]
Uh, uh, yo
Yo, when you see Sheek, don't look at me as Sheek from The L.O.X.
Look at me as that cat that know how to box
Know about glocks, know about slingin' them rocks
Know about runnin' from cops and switchin' up spots
How to get rich, know about thuggin' a bitch
Fuck 'em in the park, fuck a sweet as the Ritz
They like that shit, and I ain't gotta spend no checks
Fuck diamonds, all they really want is rough ass sex
And they name, shout it out when I'm up at Flex
I get drunk with bitches that don't get drunk
Don't get high, have 'em doing drive-by's
Shit they never did, forgetting about they kids
Moms babysitting, ain't seen her in a week
I'm a bad influence to parents that hate Sheek
I need a ryde or die bitch that'll take this coke
Out of town, and come back and breakdown when I'm broke, what

. . .

Ay Yo Swizz
What's up
I told you baby this the one right here
This is the one
Sheek Louch
Yo yo yo Ay yo

[CHORUS x2:]
Ay yo y'all niggas want war?
Bring it on c'mon
Y'all want war with Sheek?
Bring it on c'mon
Y'all tryin na stop how I eat?
Bring it on c'mon , bring it on c'mon , bring it on c'mon

[Sheek: Verse 1]
Yo how you gon talk shit when you soft as pudding
Knowing the work that these real thugs put in
We too legit
Let me hear you rap something bout us
I'ma break the hands of the man who wrote your shit
We take minks off backs
Them grime niggas in clubs that make niggas walk
With them bodyguard cats
I'm glad I'm free
I feel like Harriet Tubman came and got me
>From the white man property
It's all glitz and glitter but no cash you getting
You hear the difference in that shit that I'm spittin
Double R
That's street shit and that's the way it has to be
Myself , Sheek Louch , and I'm still MTV
I can talk about guns
Go out smack some nuns
Then flip and do a song with country music and shit
Don't ever play LOX for no fucking retard
Cuz your dough aint that long that you can't see God
Plus these rap niggas out here respect the god
They know we spit that shit so they respect our sound
They know how hard a motherfucker is and water that's down
Here that's that shit right there
I swear from Yonkers motherfucker
We'll bust in the air
Aint nobody killin clouds over here
Respect us
You bleed how we bleed
We bust how you bust
Yo Swizz help me out sing this chorus for us


[Verse 2]
Ay yo this here is for them cats that wild nonstop
Can't dance just play the club and bop
No respect for the law
Fuck security son
Cuz you big that aint stopping me from bustin my gun
It's a fact that fire burns and shit stink
It's also a fact that your vest only protectin your chest
You aint think about your head when you was talkin that mess
Or this knife
Across your face scar you for life
Now do you really wanna rock that ice?
Heh heh
Do your security really love your life?
Or do they just want their check
You think they gon take one in the neck
For a nigga with no respect
For his crew
Man we don't wear half on Chinese food
Slept in the same bed
Same chick gave us head
Brothers , and we aint gon stop till we all dead
Aint shit gon change
Just the dough gon change
Fuck a Bentley
I'm good with a rubberband colored range
I empty a clip at you you send nothing in exchange
Y'all niggas mad soft no heart all brains
But what's smart when a dumb dumb burst your heart
I'm done now but first hold up hold your applause
I got one question to ask y'all do y'all niggas want war?


[Swizz ad libs to end]

. . .

(feat. Drag-On, Eve, Swizz Beatz)

Yo I might get drunk
Jeckel and Hyde
Roll these with lemons
I'm tellin' y'all Niggas
Swizz Beatz

If you know, like we know, like they know
L.O.X. is the best
If you know, like we know, like they know
Swizz Beatz is the best
If you know, like we know, like they know
Ruff Ryders is the best
If you know, like we know, like they know
We'll bring it to their chest

[Verse 1:]
[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
Yo if I can't make money
Then you can't either
If I didn't have to rap
I have blown in the freezer
[Styles a.k.a Holiday]
If I can't rock Nikes
or Tim's with double soles
I have the 9 in the pound
And leave your ass full of holes
[Jada a.k.a Kisseastwood]
If I didn't push a Benz
And I didn't push a Lex
Then the Ambulance will come
And they be pushin' on your chest
[Swizz Beatz]
If I couldn't hit the studio
and make another record
For my double R Niggas
I'll lay y'all on stretchers
[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
Now I might get drunk
Or I might get high
But my game stay Trump
And my style stay fly
[Styles a.k.a Holiday]
I might hit a dime
Or I might hit a duece
And when I wanna go to war
Is when you wanna call a truce
[Jada a.k.a Kisseastwood]
I might buy 'em cooked
Dough I might buy 'em raw
And I might tap your chin
Or I might cross your jaw
[Swizz Beatz]
Now I might go 18's
I might go 20's
I might use dumdums
Cause y'all Niggas dummies


[Verse 2:]
[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
Ayo, me without weight
Is like Harlem without 8
[Jada a.k.a Kisseastwood]
Yeah, me with no funds
Is like Queens with no dunns
[Styles a.k.a Holiday]
And me with no beef
Is like Brooklyn with no guns
[Swizz Beatz]
Man and me with no beats
Is like Cali with no blunts
[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
First I got head from her
Then I hit her from the back
Then she told me that she hustled
So I hit her with a pack
[Jada a.k.a Kisseastwood]
Yeah, screw how many mics you got
How much ice you got
My bullets'll make you icy-hot
[Styles a.k.a Holiday]
Y'all, all my Niggas killas
We don't talk on the phone
And give a way better message
When we come in your home
[Swizz Beatz]
Yo, catch me Down-South
When I'm pumpin' up things
and my name ain't Rover
Don't jump on my rings
[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
Man, you gotta have your hustle right
When you up in the game
[Jada a.k.a Kisseastwood]
You gotta have your lawyor money
For you firm-aly change
[Styles a.k.a Holiday]
And don't you leave out the house
Without bringer your things
[Swizz Beatz]
We gonna Ruff Ryde, Nigga
From here to the bank

[Sheek a.k.a Louch]
What you greaseball cocksuckers thought it was over
This double R, Nigga, L.O.X.
We are the streets
When the kennels is open the dogs is biting, bitch
Shits real

[Verse 3:]
Yo, yo, yo, yo
I might pull up in a V,
that cost more than a buck
Then turn around and burn it
Cause you thought it was plush
Anytime I get on fire
I get a car to match
And tell any rapper you name
You gard it black
When I bust my hammer
I nail my Nigga
We the Ruff Ryder family
All hail, my Niggas
And I might ride, I might die
That's up to the Lord
And my Niggas might come home
That's up to the ?
Yo, If money make you feel good
I'm happy with lead
Joe Pesci-style
Kickin' Niggas after they dead
Picture the litter
Hold the 4-5th for my Niggas
Writin' the venom
Ass look right in the dinner
?Dockin'? you pay
Word from me you clockin' the Yay
I hustle for real
Let you hold the block for a day
Pull it in your brain
And give you a hot idea
You wanna low
Here's a casket you can hide out there

[Chorus: til fade]

. . .

[Intro: Sheek]
You know we had to 'dis right
Hugh Hugh
You know we had to 'dis right
Hugh Hugh
It just wouldn't be right

[Verse One:Sheek]

Yo I'ma b-boy standin in my b-boy stance
Glock on my hip is big is the dick in my pants
You don't want nuttin wit sheek you soft as fuck
I leave a single shotgun shell on top of your truck
Wit a horseshoe to let you know you pressin' ya luck
You don't want nuttin wit kiss, nuttin wit styles
You don't wanna end up food for the crocadiles
I'd take the gun off ya waste and smack ya
And turn around and point it at ya mink and give you one
I'm the reason why ya peeps not in ICU
Cause believe me when you ain't watchin I see you
From the Hamptons to the place where you like to eat
I put somethin in them mams you keep thinkin is sweet
I'm in the bushes all night calm wit' the Tommy
Waitin for you to skinny dip wit' that mommy
While she waitin for the night i'm waitin for her flight

[Chorus: Jadakiss]

No we ain't
Wit dem
No more cause we ruffrydin
Get it out ya head now
LOX is back now
Show a little love now
Pump it in the club now

[Verse Two: Jadakiss]

Yo if you should die tonight
It's cause I said peel his cap
We on Ruffryders now
How real is that
It's the kiss of death everybody know J- face
Us gettin off similar to OJ's case
Just better rhymes and better beats involved
Less politics more of the streets involved
Things always go smooth when the heats involved
Sign today or get beat tommorow
First one talkin that family shit
And get a lotta doe and don't give the family shit
I don't care how many ? you wrote
I just wanna see how you gonna dance when your neck get broke
if yall do fall down i'ma scoop the ?
No shiny suits
Everybody boots and jeans
The industry is one thing being real is another
That means i'll steal your mother

[Chorus: x2]

[Verse Three: Styles]

Yo if you left the peak ballin i don't feel yo ass
I wish duke was still alive and they killed yo ass
You can keep an industry but don't you come to the hood
I got a thousand niggas like me and they feel like suge
If you think i'm beefin for nuttin then rob me dog
I'm from the hood
And I ain't bee robbed before
Tell you screw all the paper work
You can lie in dirt
Walk through the valley nigga tell me if the iron hurt
Ruffryder now cause that's where the bombs at
And i tell niggas fuck that car jack
Take the roley out the air put the don back
Can't wear shiney suits on combat
Guess i got personal beef
You worse then a thief
Probably be your man that'll work you to sleep
We goin put the guns down and we ain't bringin a crew
You got friends that hate yo ass more than we do nigga

[Outro: L.O.X.]

We don't give a fuck about ya [x3]
We gonna be alright with out ya

[Chorus: x6]

. . .

See also:

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