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Ruff Ryders




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  R  →  Ruff Ryders  →  Albums  →  Ryde Or Die Vol. 2

Ruff Ryders Album


Ryde Or Die Vol. 2 (2000)
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Ruff Ryders (ruff ryders)
Ryde or die, volume 2

(Swizz Beatz)
Tugboats
It's over...

(laughing)It's the second time around mutherfucker (yeah)
Volume 2, ryde or die, bitch
Gangsta nigga
And we gonna rock this motherfucker, you dig me (for sure baby)
We done square rooted the motherfucking streets (for sure baby)
Double R, you cock sucking sons of bitches (yeah)

(Swizz Beatz)
State your name gangsta
(Snoop Dogg)
Big Snoop dogg (bow wow)
(Swizz Beatz)
Where ya representin
(Snoop Dogg)
West coast
(Swizz Beatz)
You gonna hold it down?
(Snoop Dogg)
Please believe nigga
(Swizz Beatz)
Enough said then nigga
(Snoop Dogg)
(Hold on, hold up) beyatch!
(Swizz Beatz)
Make a start

(Snoop Dogg)
Let's make this official
Shine your boots and load your pistols
Pull out your best crudentials
Cuz this'll, be the official for the fake tissue
Doggy dogg and big Swizz'll, nigga blow the whistle
Smoke it on some bomb beat and second hand smoke will get ya, hit ya
And make ya all get the picture
Dig this, when was the last time you seen me
Posted up, west coasted up and sippin on some green meat
Believe me, it ain't easy being D'zy
With these jealous rap niggas and these punk ass freezies (fuck em)
Man, I couldn't remember what they told me
When I first came in the game, but things done changed
Call it what you want it, keep the heat up on it
Eastside California, spinnin like a 'tona
Banging on the corner, like a 'sona
It be best to back up off a boy and put this up on ya

(Swizz Beatz)
(Yeah!) State your name youngster
(Yung Wun)
Yung Wun!!
(Swizz Beatz)
Where you representing
(Yung Wun)
A-T-L, shorty
(Swizz Beatz)
You gonna hold it down?
(Yung Wun)
Damn right
(Swizz Beatz)
Well, enough said then
(Yung Wun)
It's up, man nigga tell ya something
(Swizz Beatz)
Let's go

(Yung Wun)
Shorty pop a lot, acting like he got a lot
With all that fake ice on his watch, this nigga wanna get got
Coming to my city with all that hot shit and his fake ass cliq
I'm gonna put something in him, bust his wig, I'm on some thugged out shit
He better be strapped boy, how ya like that boy
Hey boy, I'm gonna break your back boy, with a bat boy
Where ya at boy, hold up, I'm cold hearted
Damn right, I get retarded
I'm a young one, and down here, bitch I'm the hardest
Shoot the shoot, hide and talk that shit
I'm gonna stay low, keep it real and show then come up
But when I bite, you gonna feel that there, it's real down here
Watch your mouth boy, you might get killed down here
I'm a ryde or die nigga, I'll put something in your eye nigga
Get beside them here, it's fly bye nigga
When it come to glock cocking and drop popping
I'm the first to hit the black and go to war with the cops, fuck nigga

(Swizz Beatz)
State your name gangsta
(Scarface)
Scarface
(Swizz Beatz)
Where your representing
(Scarface)
My motherfucking self
(Swizz Beatz)
You gonna hold it down?
(Scarface)
You god damn right
(Swizz Beatz)
Enough said then nigga

(Scarface)
Hi-ho Scarface and Dogg whippin this streets against the law
Bringing terror with this beretta, I clutch in my paw
I'm scared motherfuckers, scrape with mine
You will attack, that's what you get, my enemies die
It's a worldwide story, for all soldiers
Even if Ruff Ryders ryde ruff or roll over
It's a stickup, said down on your knees cuz I'm sick-up
If disrespected, you don't disrespect me nigga
I'm the one these niggas call on
When they go to cases are halted and the time come for beatin up the bosses
Make them an offer they can't refuse
They don't comply, when I walk out they stack these fools
I guess these niggas think they can't be moved
Realized it those dead niggas like they think they do
You fuck with me I gots to fuck with you
World war three, motherfucker, I thought you knew

(Swizz Beatz)
State your name gangsta
(Jadakiss)
Jadakiss, nigga
(Swizz Beatz)
Where you representing
(Jadakiss)
East coast, dog
(Swizz Beatz)
You gonna hold it down?
(Jadakiss)
Why wouldn't I?
(Swizz Beatz)
Enough said then nigga
(Jadakiss)
Let's go
(Swizz Beatz)
Let's go

(Jadakiss)
C'mon,
If you fucking with the kiss, you ain't gonna breathe
The only time I lick in the air is new years eve
Sonny from Bronxdale you can't leave
Get kissed on your cheek then your meant to die
Cuz when the gun start poppin and my temperature rise
You know my style, twenty niggas with forty cals
Nine years ago you was hollering when shorty wild
Now I'm in the rap game twisting these honies out
Never left the crack game, still on the money route
I run through the industry looking for enemies
Y'all niggas sound sick and Jada the remedy
Get shot in your eyes and your mouth
Can't see can't talk when you fuckin with the heart of New York
And that's foulin then swallow the pulp
And then fuck with the feds dog, you know I push the prowler they caught
Toast on my lap, got the east coast on my back

How many times must I tell you motherfuckers (yeah)
We ain't in-du-stry niggas, we in-the-streets niggas
Ruff Ryders forever, hey bitch now what

(Swizz Beatz)
Ryde or die, you talk it, we live it (EASTCOAST!)
So ryde or die, you want it, we give it (WESTCOAST!)
So ryde or die, you start it, we end it (DIRTY SOUTH!)
So ryde or die, you talk it, we live it (BIG WEST!)
So ryde or die, you want it, we give it (RUFF RYDERS!)
So ryde or die, you start it, we end it (BIAATCH!!!)
(repeat chorus)(hollering then fade to end)
DOUBLE R MUTHAFUCKA!!!

. . .


Ruff Ryders niggas, blood in blood out (all aboard)
Sheek, Methical, waddup niggas
Yo yo, hey yo
Soon as I cop the nine I pop the nine
But when I take it out the box I represent Lox
Now when I flow hit the rewind button
So I charge em all when ya all at the door
F**k heat, Sheek walk around with an oven
Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill
How's it gonna look when I come through your block
Sheek, Doc, Meth on top
Force, 300 horse fly by, back open, pumpin how high (how high)
Can ya see that, you can call me whatcha want 'cause "I'll be dat"
Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels
As long as the condos paid and the truck I choose
I'm telling y'all niggas, if it's not double R
You can spell my name out on the side of the car

Chorus:
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
If you wanna get high with us
If you wanna get down with us
Come on now (x2)

I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw
A five speed clutch on my paw when I write
I glow like the heads of light brite
3000 volts of lightning when ya fly the right kite
Me and Meth be henessee, two ice cubes
We can draw (choose your weapon) or do I choose
When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip
I hope your shoes fit for this movin pick
I avalanche the camp with 10 feet of snow
I'm cold blooded, my fam half Eskimo
My flows move like indo, turn 10 nickels to 10 lows out of 10 stones
Ride the crash course, do the math on it
Swizz Beatz you can ride Amtrak on it
But I'm on it, grillin with George Foreman
Your peeps is at the grammy awards corning
The eyes to fat wallet son I want it
And the helicopter warning before morning
Def jam nigga, Redman nigga
Got f**k your momma on my sweatband nigga
You tough guys will get smacked in the club
With the gun that I bought from Mack in the club
It's P-P-V from brick to Brooklyn
Come on, bring me some more ass to whoop on

Chorus: x2

Look what the cat dragged in
Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror
Scooper high yeller, Cinderella Meth forever
Never rush a rhyme, hope to never bust my nine
But if I have to I have to
It's all in the mind, I stay ahead of time
While you're falling behind, trying to relight your line
It's a crime when I drop bomb lines design..
To tick tick boom, blow your mind
Yeah me, m-e-t h-the o-d done
Trying to find a penny in the seat
Nigga, run for cover son, go and get them guns
Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around and get into one
Swizz Beatz, the Doc in the head, but I instead
Pull my dark gun and bust sixteen until it's dead
I'm the game, all of my dogs be off the chain
Yelling Wu-TANG, Wu-TANG

Chorus: x5
(fade to end)

. . .


Some people blonde peeps red benji something moving quickly
Out of town, how they gonna find her moving swiftly
5 steps ahead of the best, well that's nothing
20 steps ahead of the rest they left something
And I base not, want not, can't stand broads
Ridiculous niggas practice for the title 'hard'
Me, pick of the litter I was born to bubble y'all
Born to chain game, shit born to stand guard
Play games, you left nameless, fame ball
Promise that it's never painless, nigga be hard
Come and hope you can take the heat nigga, let's start
Strong as a stallion, babe you got a dog
And she feminine with pretty women friends, all dimes
Timberlands is how I like my men in all mines
Ruff Ryde, you nigga hard head soft spine
Pass the word, must have stacks to cross lines

Chorus:
Don't want your dough, I don't want your car
Don't want your jewels, no not at all
With them other broads you might rule it all
Not with me, sorry boo I got it all (x2)

A chick is a chick a nut is a nut
And they always keep an attitude until you butter them up
Since I ain't gotta buy you stuff
Who's gonna hold you down if they try to run in here and tie you up
Now don't start flippin it, everybody know
We been had dough, ya just started gettin it
Money might make you grown
But you still need a dog to take you home and make you moan
You ain't gotta see the bank for loans
All I do is party and bullshit like when Frank was home
And you got it all boo, I got it all too
A four, five, and a six, and they all blue
And I don't care what she thinks
If I offer you any ice love it'll be in a drink
And instead of talking about what you got and all that
Just make sure when I hit you, you call back

Chorus: (x2)

One touch will make a nigga blush on site
Grown men create a crush, nails they bite
It's a game, try to catch me, but only if you can
Takes a lot to impress the bombshell, don't want a man
And it ain't about the dough baby, Eve alright
'cause if Eve want to fly away, Eve take a flight
Eve hungry for a meal, baby Eve get a bite
Be nice and you might get to see your daddy's life

Ma, I'm glad that you got it all, more for me
And I don't gotta pay for the puss I score for free
And the same thing I pulled on them I pulled on you
C'mon now, how you think I pulled your crew
Got my own crib so you can't kick me out
I call one of your friends to come twist me out
If you know Jada- then you know what -Kiss be about
Just for fun I hit the bank and pull fifty out

Chorus (x3) (fade to end)

. . .


(Yung Wun)
Man, y'all rap niggas is high fashion
Flashin, talker, no action
Read emcees like TV's with captions
Charts we smash on, guns we blast them
Spit fire like blow dryers and drag dash on
Your career won't last long, real name Shawn Lassiter
Four words for y'all, F type no passenger
Flow nastier, man you know what I mean
And I keep them diamonds shinin blue, yellow, and green
So the wrist look like a twister mat
Man, I cock the biscuit back and twist ya cap
Opps, clipped ya face just missed ya hat
This go out to those that think this just a rap
Well mister, address the gat and we'll address ya back
Nasty, nasty, spittin discusting raps
And I doubt that cha'll cats can f**k with that

Chorus:

You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will rough you up
You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will touch you up
You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will bust you up
You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy
You don't want no drummer boy

(Larsiny)
I hate cops, and I like you even less
I turn your whole block into a bleedin mess
Niggas talk hard, and get an easy death
cause I pop buck shots like I'm ???
And I can tell you won't blow, gotta scary finger
All talk, no show, Jerry Springer
I don't care if you a skinny or a burly nigga
I'ma have ya face lookin like a blurry mirror
We shake your features, y'all make believers
And the eight'll make you shake like you fake the seizure
I ball of the scale, break the meter
And if you ever go to jail, they'll rape and beat'cha
Hold up, take a breather, I'm way too tough
Got kicked outta pre-school, played to rough
I straight grew up, I'm still a bully
Used to take your lunch money now I steal your jewelry

Ha, okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, okay, okay, okay

Chorus

(Yung Wun)
Don't make me reach for these, I got heat to squeeze
Make your face melt like pizza cheese
You need to leave, cause you don't stand a chance man
I get greasy like mechanic hands
Y'all niggas all sweet like candy yams
Clear blocks outs, hop out the family van
Lookin like a handy man, with tools on the waist
Put'choo in the ambulance with two's in your face
You'se a disgrace, you've never been hot
And I can tell how you talkin you ain't never been shot
Yo, its whatever or not, if you want it, its war
You can choose what I'ma use, the pump or the four
Then decide where you gon' die, trunk of the floor
cause I'ma tell the law I don't know nothing at all
I was just walkin my dog and discovered the ball
A lotta niggas think they hard, this is somethin for y'all

Chorus

Okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, okay, okay, okay

Chorus

. . .


(blows smoke)
1: Come up top to the roof come on
2: What you wanna go to the roof for
1: I just bought four joints today
2: Word
1: Yeah,yeah i wanna pop these things off
(they walk up the steps and open the door)
Styles: What up?
2: Whats up holiday?
1: You know we be get money for long time, yeah, what's goin on? And we been in a lot of shit together.
2: Look at the pumpers on the roof, pumpers on the roof
Styles: Hey, you ratin man? Fuck the bull shit e you ratin.
2:Ratin? Fuck what you are talk about Holiday?
Styles: Cuz you are ratin, baby.
2: Ratin on who? Who am i ratin on?
Styles: It's not looking good baby, not lookin good at all
1: Personally it aint even nothing to talk about
2: So this how i'm going out,this how yall gone do me this how im going out
Styles: You okay, you okay, nigga chill!
1: Yo, what you actin like that? Ayo! Ayo! What the fuck? What you doin, man?
Styles: It's a Holiday, motherfucker!
2: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
1: Fly off the roof!
(Explosion)

. . .


Yeah
L O X nigga
It don't stop
It keep goin, and goin, and goin, and goin
Motherf**kers

(Styles Paniro)
You heard it from the P, you oughta know it's the truth
I get you kidnapped and raped and thrown off a roof
You could nod your head to this like it's only a rap
'cause when these bullets hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat
I need a funeral to feel god, I'm hopin it's yours
Think you religious, heard he got shot in the cross
Holiday Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
F**k with the poor, so flip to the boots, stick to the truth
Do anything it takes just to get to this loot!
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, told you the script
You heard about the trouble, I start most of the shit
When I squeeze aint no controllin the wrist
And niggas leave the room when the hear the P flowin with swiss
I'm an ignorant and negative nigga
I sell crack, bust guns, pop shit, and say I'm better than niggas
You think not, I'll look at your man and level a nigga
If you think a rapper's better why don't you give me his name
So I can run up on him, tear him up and give you his frame
When it comes to the streets, I'm the nigga to call
Five eight and three quarters, but I'm bigger than y'all
If I left the gun home, I'ma give you the sword
I'm the devil in the flesh, I can't give you the Lord
It don't make no sense for you to pray for your life
I got my niggas in the crib, you oughta pray for your wife

CHORUS: Jadakiss and Styles
Jadakiss: Uh huh, HOLIDAY
Styles: I gotta make it to heaven for goin through hell
J: HOLIDAY
S: And I don't care if I sell, y'all know what I sell
J: HOLIDAY
S: I use my left hand when I'm loadin the shells
J: HOLIDAY
S: 'cause I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L

(Styles Paniro)
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even ride wit a bomb
Get shot, die in his arm, and give him my last
It's a million dollar bail, I'ma get it in cash
I sell crack like it's '88, I live in the past
You know the P carry the gun, live in the mask
Tell niggas show me the money and gimme the stash
I like malibu and pineapple, fifty's of hash
Hundred's of dro, wear my clothes a week in a row
Sleep on the floor, catch me right next to the door
I'm Holiday Styles, and that's what the weaponry for
And I probably won't blow for the fact that I'm hard
But I'm good with ten million in the back of the car
Either that or get life and lift the rack in the yard
Gettin jewels from the old timers, stashin the cards
But jail aint part of the plans
I keep weight on the scale 'cause I feel I get further with grams
In my last few bars, I run through niggas like my last few cars
And crash 'em up, the boy mighta went platinum but don't gas him up
I get his length and his width and get his casket cut
I don't deal with the snakes and fakes
But I deal with the comas and wakes, I don't make mistakes
Double R now bitch you oughta know I'ma ghost
Blow up your face, blow up the coke, and blow up the smoke

CHORUS

. . .


I'm pushin for the single yo, c'mon
Yo lock the door, uh huh
Ya heard, uh, uh
C'mon, yeah
Y'all know who it is, or should I say what it is
Uh, uh

(Verse 1)
All Drag do is f**k bitches, and drain his body
Kickin bitches out the bed and sleep next to a shottie
A bitch'll never get me pump, I make niggas pump IV
I'm the type to follow the cops wit a midget drivin me
Make them think the car drivin itself, and I'm in the passenger seat
Signal lights, stashbox, a package of D
Drag dash, I'm happy to be
On, this rap shit is like a jacket to me
I wear it with cracks in my sleeves
So I keep it on, don't never take my jacket off 'cause my shit be gone
What are you, lost your mind?
It took my time to cut these dimes
So I could dump drug a few minds, so don't make me bust a few nines
Dip the T T in polish watch the shoe shine
Slip in the Tunnel with a banger in my bootline
All it takes is the finger to make a sour sit, linger
Double R is hard, the rest of y'all is R & B singers

CHORUS 2X:
WEED
That's what we smokin up
HOES
That's what we pokin up
DOUGH
That's what we foldin up
That's all we know about

(Verse 2)
I got more bullets in my clip, than chocolate got in chip
I got more bitches suckin dick, than niggas smokin niks
I got more shit up in my whip, than most niggas got in cribs
I got more, blocks of raw while y'all tryin to stop wars
Coward nigga lock your doors
I'll come through with the locksmith and pop it
With the glock 4 and show y'all what a mouth's for
I got black steel, blue steel, wheels, I mean wheelchair
'cause Drag is real fair, it's all real here
I own more buildings on my block, than real estate, philly ave
Hit ten niggas I'm tryin to see mils like Billy Gates
'cause me in Philly rollin dutches
Me and Eve, stuck off the trees, got her laughin off bitches' weaves
Double R, pop niggas, make niggas bleed
Fiends come to me my top rock's been asleep
Seven foot bouncers bout to be six feet, under me
Now that's a foot left, you shouldn't have took that step

CHORUS

(Verse 3)
I know y'all wish y'all woulda, shoulda, coulda
Didda, getta, gotta, guns we cock it then pop it
Make 'em holler and swallow
Niggas stop it, catch it, all up in his jacket
I'm not a stingy nigga, I'll let a nigga have it
Hate chips that go away, lookin like white coke
Sit in the sun long, come back like french toast
Hair was up, now is down, eyes are black, now is brown
Used to frown, now you smile, nigga must have left you now
Went from bikes to the car, from the cars to the boat
Went from keys to the coke, went from coke to the dope
Went from cracks to the raps, went from bats to the gats
Went from slums to the stats, been to London and back
Me change 'cause I rap, I can't do it
I went from muggin y'all to payin niggas to do it
It's all the same stupid
I got cake on cake, 'cause I went from pow to pow
Wit my family, two R's, Ryde or Die

CHORUS

. . .


(Swizz) Flesh, what's poppin' baby?
(Flesh) Chillin man, you know, you know how it is. Holdin' down the DJ crown.
(Swizz) OK.
(Flesh) heh. Yeah....
(Swizz) But yo I got a situation here man.
(Flesh) Alright, talk to me.
(Swizz) You know I don't really talk that much, you know, I'm pretty a low type dude. But you know I be reading this, these magazines and all that.
(Flesh) Why da' hate man?
(Swizz) Yeah!
(Flesh) Why da' f**kin hate?
(Swizz) Yeah.
(Flesh) You know what the problem is man? F**k da' haters. Let 'em understand that Swizz Beatz has the crown and don't be upset.
(Swizz) Always.
(Flesh) Hows it going down? Ryde or Die part 2...it's gonna be ugly?
(Swizz) Frenzy...
(Flesh) hehehehe. Aiiight.
(Swizz) Word up, so you hold it down man, you know, come into the station, let me chicka, chicka, chicka.
(Flesh) Do what you need to do as you always do. Shout to Dee and Waah, word up.
(Swizz) Word up.



(Swizz) What up Bus, whats poppin.
(Busta) F**k is the deal, my nigga?
(Swizz) Ain't nothin, you know we doing this man. These niggaz on. They hatin' on ya boy man.
(Busta) Niggaz is tryin to carry on ?
(Swizz) No question.
(Busta) Aiight. Well, first and foremost, all we really need to do to handle a situation like that...you send them niggaz to come see me. Because I got a hand full of niggaz that stay doing nothin'. Real anxious lookin for niggaz like them kinda niggaz.
(Swizz) Right.
(Busta) Put one of them long black steel things in their f**kin mouth.
(Swizz) No question.
(Busta) It ain't even a problem nigga it can be dealt with accordingly. F**k them niggaz. Let's show them niggaz how we do it on this next shit we about to bring in their f**kin' face. Right now nigga, Flipmode/Ruff Ryder way nigga.
(Swizz) Aiiight. F**k 'em lets go.

. . .


Busta Rhymes:

Attention please, attention please
Can I have everybody's attention please
So humorous, we laugh at all ay'all
The alliance has now been officially formed
Ruff Ryder, Flipmode, 2000, it's now official baby
It's another headbanger

Swizz Beats:

Swizz Beats, who hits on your streets every six weeks
I be on the MP so much that my wrist's weak
Ain't shit sweet, pile 'em in here
All my thugs in the clubs start wildin' in here
Now put your bottles in the air, then light your dutches
Me and Busta keep it tight like liposucion
Niggas that don't like me get the knife for frontin'
Cause one night in the club gets your life on crutches
You got that whodie, I'll cock that forty
Flyin' in the 5 with the top back on it
Stop that shorty, I know you love me
Probably sample one of my beats then owe me money
Plus you don't know me money, so stop the rumors
Before you need the janitors to come mop the room up
Ryde or Die Volume two, smash the charts
Now put your hands in the air for the black Mozart, OH!

Chorus: Busta Rhymes

(Ohhhh), Now come on
(Screeeam), Jump baby come on
Get your hands up, (What!), now all my ladies do it
Get your hands up, (What!)
Now let me walk you through it
(Ohhhh), Now come on
(Screeeam), Jump baby come on
Get your hands up, (What!), now all my ladies do it
Get your hands up, (What!)
Now let me walk you through it

Busta Rhymes:

Y'all niggas try to front, I'll send my crew on a hunt
Bunch of scheming ass niggas smoking gats and blunts
Busta Rhymes, Flipmode represent
For the Ruff Ryder, and my nigga Swizz
And we gonna be here to present
Y'all niggas with some other shit to bang in the street
And block the f**k out, bang the f**kin' floor with your feet
Before we bang y'all niggas all with the heat
Feed y'all niggas more gutters like a mutherf**kin' all you can eat
And make you bounce how poncho will play the congo
And bang on the bongo, free to bounce on the bongo
From New York to Colorado, so just follow
I'm living for today and livin' tomorrow
Open up your mouth, I got somethin' big for you to swallow
Blow you through the chest with a hollow
Like the foul shit you waste and transpired right infront the impalo
Yo, the general Busta Busta shock and memorable
You know we precious like minerals, and deadly like burials

Chorus

Swizz Beats:

Listen, Flipmode and Ruff Ryders bang out hits
S-W-I two Z's bang out clips
Bang out chicks, for fun we bang out whips
Y'all go to war with revolvers that bang out flicks
Now find me on two-fifth in the summer when it starts
And iced up, nice cut, new pair of Jordans
Thinkin' of extortin, nigga your life ain't important
Your camp hotter than ours?, the f**k y'all snortin'
My thugs bang out bricks, swing, mix, throw dem grams
Hash smokers, hopin' more and out of soda cans
(Yo Swizz, I heard you stole), Whoa! listen man
Mindin' my business will make you a missin' man
See the wrist and hand?, got plaques on the wall
And a fifth in hand, I'll put your back on the wall
Nigga don't ask me no more about nuttin' you hear
Just scream and shout and just wild in here

Chorus: 3x

New York, they ain't ready for it
A-T-L, they ain't ready for it
Oh, Oh, Oh, they ain't ready for it
Whoa, Oh, Oh, they ain't ready for it
My ladies
Millenium
Guns bustin' plenty of them, y'all hear that

. . .


(Verse 1)
Yo, yo, I know niggas wit honor and will
That'll still crush the blow up and then pass they mama the bill
So I'ma always be able to burn my strip
'cause my bags be stuffed and I burn my tips
And it aint no tellin what the snub'll do
So when y'all go and cop S's cop one for your mother too
And I'm way better than them other dudes
But I'm stuck wit, what I'm stuck wit
'cause I don't suck dick
Sat with the plays and I stood with the cultures
And I'ma always be in the hood like roaches
Flow is ferocious, dough is ferocious
Two guns by each lung with no holsters
And I control all the fishscale in the city
And still make your first week sales look pretty
I come through, all you hear is chip in the muffler
And you could ask anybody if the Kiss is a hustler

CHORUS:
Styles: He's a hustler
Jadakiss: I hustle anywhere, any town, any borough, any strip, uh
S: He's a gambler
J: I always hold it down, gettin bankroll in 4, 5, 6 in trips
S: He's a gangster
J: I always make the paper and the FBI got me on they list, that's why
S: He's a Ruff Ryder nigga, Ryde or Die nigga
J: By the way, did I tell you that my name is Kiss?

(Verse 2)
And I don't understand how a broke nigga could chill
When a two liter'll dust you so get you a mil
Yes I got loose ends, poppin out the sunroof of the blue M
I'm like Lou Sims
And I'ma make sure they hit you wit both shotties
I think this summer's gon be the most bodies
You never ask a nigga in jail if he chillin
Just make sure you make all the sales in the building
'cause now niggas think it's all right to tell
And you could put out some garbage and it might could sell
Alotta niggas be petty and sheist
But that's only til you treat 'em like a video and edit they life
This is a threat, when I talk you listen to death
And if I run out of money then my wrist is a bet
And the streets said they wanted more Kiss
Up north niggas pop me in, and do a hundred more dips

CHORUS

(Verse 3)
Yo, whether it's dope money or rap money, gamble the shit
Trey pounds of Mauseburgs, handle the shit
Got too big for the city, cops brought in the feds
So we moved across the map and brought in the bread
Niggas chill for a month and a half, no ruckus
Got the pictures of baggers and all of the gun busters
And you know how it go, 'cause it rarely'll change
Everybody got a license and a alias name
We don't smoke when we hustle and none of us talk
Back to back til we home, we can front in New York
'cause some of us is runnin from court
Smokin weed, mumblin thoughts
Tryin to stay humble for shorts
We could do this the mob way and kiss you on both cheeks
Or do it the hard way and shoot through your gold teeth
Stand on any block, play cee-lo and craps
And break niggas for they pack money, then give it back, uh

CHORUS 2X

. . .


"lyrics hereArtist: Twista, Drag-On
Album: Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume Two
Song: Twisted Heat
Typed by: hot boyz@mail.com

(Swizz Beatz)
Aowwwwwwwww!
We know y'all can drink 'til you throw up
We know y'all sittin' on 20's
We know y'all reppin' your hood
But how many y'all KILL!!!

(Twista)
Bounce that ass, load them cribs,
let me see the mobbin' niggaz that wanna talk shit
Rowdy motherfuckers that be scummy and'll go for the money,
ready to ride when they rollin' a lick
Thugs with the Chevy's, thugs with the trucks,
the real gun runner never run when he bust
Henny and he mobs in the front, smoke a 'dro blunt,
sippin' with a fifty sack under the nuts
Hoes with ass and no gut
let me see you jiggle it from SIDE TO SIDE
Niggaz if it's static, then pass me the strap,
gonna RIDE 'Til MY RIDE
All the hoes that'll freak niggaz, with the 'fedi,
let's get buck up in the club
And all my soldiers, FALL OUT, gangstas, MOB UP
All the homies on the block, ante up on the fin,
and let's go get us a sack
Serve til we got a custom 'Llac, hustlin' packs
'til a nigga bust, then we bustin' back
Guys that'll roll them dice and win,
Girls with the 'fits that show the skin
Real niggaz mind your best friend at the pen,
Real hoes let your best friend know about men
Cause I be squeezin' ass
and'll make a full glass disappear like a genie
Move to the LOX and Beanie,
while them hoes backin' that thang up on my weenie
It's like no nigga in the world could see me
when I Ruff Ryde with Drag-On
Rollin' up big babies in a Mercedes,
if you want herb we got bombs

Chorus: Twista (Drag-On) (2x)

Gotta kick that shit for the fine bitches and all my nugz
For the ones who smoke pot, do stick ups, and ball in our hood
What do a nigga say when he sees Drag-On And Twista (kill me)
Gangsta (Let's ride), hustla (Feel me)

(Drag-On)
By know everybody should know, that the kid spit tight,
and this kid spit fire light
And the bitch I don' fucked like last night,
I don't give a fuck 'bout a 2 and a half mic
Cause the only motherfucfkin magazine that I read,
is when I buy my gun from it
How many bullets you could digest in that one stomach,
I suggest y'all run from it
And the click-click from the calico, I gotta go,
make it pimp with a lot of hoes
I'm the same motherfucker that's countin' that dough,
cookin' that coke to a pot of gold
Cause my rainbow, is every color top that crackhead cop
I don't care I gotta cap me a cop
As long as I got enough money to cop me a drop, pop enough glocks
Drag open up dope spots and co-op's in convo at condos
Keep the heat up in jeeps, in case y'all creep up on me
I run up on y'all in a cab with a meter on me
And the only on leavin' is me
And the only one bleedin' is you, tryin' to breeze with me
All I rock is E-N-Y-C-E, in the NYC with the white T
All I really do is R-U,
double F, R-Y-D-E, D-R-A-G, to the dash O-N
Catch me, smokin' potent, bet I leave y'all, niggaz soakin',
with your insides open

Chorus: Twista (Drag-On) (2x)

(Swizz Beatz)
ERRRRRRR!!!!
Hold the fuck up! (Slow down!)
Drag, Twista (Listen up!)
These motherfuckers don't know what's real out here
(They damn sure don't)
This is volume 2 (volume 2)
Nigga, so, get ignorant!

Chorus: Twista (Drag-On)

(Twista)
Whether murder or bouncy beat, my flow be philosophical
Smokin' on tropical, achievin' all +Missions Impossible+
When I up the block at you, I'ma pop at you
If your momma cry there's nothin' I could do
Should not've fucked with Mr. Illogical
When I'm in to clubbin', huggin', shake it don't you break it
Your booty too sacred, can't take it, wanna see you naked
I done drunk a blue motherfucker, so you know I'm lit up
Everybody get up, sweat for the Twista, it's a stick up

(Drag-On)
This where the shit pick up, let me load this clip up,
just pour me some liquor
Flame-On and Twista,
let's see if you murdered who'll miss ya
I love the dirty south, that's why I gotta dirty mouth
that'll burn you out
Tell your bitch I got a dick that'll turn her out,
especially when I tell her turn around
I don' hurt her now
Shit'll come back, and I think it's time to get murdered now
I'm tired of silly clowns,
spittin' out weak shit, sound like me shit
You gon' make me pull a all nighter
Standin' infront of your crib with that gasoline and that lighter
That way we won't miss ya, Drag-On and Twista

(Put it on 'em!)
"

. . .


(Styles)
Ruff Ryder Nigga, Volume 2
We show niggas the meaning of ryde or die
So all that bullshit you talking, go head nigga

(Jadakiss)
You don't gotta slap me five or give me a hug
And it hurts when you gotta kill a nigga you love
But I'm gone deal wit my enemies sooner
Cause I got'em looking for my solo album like Kennedy Jr.
F**k crush ice, go head and get your shine on
I'm bout to cop rocks that y'all niggas can climb on
Don't worry bout why I ain't got mine on
I want some new shit, I don't want nothing that you can tell time on
Things ain't all good right now
Cause before some more niggas die yall in the hood right now
Y'all can stop acting like that nigga J gone squeeze
Cause all I got is misdeameanors and some ACD's
Y'all gon make me lay something down I promise
And Puff wear scarmas and listen to Carl Thomas
Puff running and hide and we coping more guns
An we coming outside cause somebody gotta die

(Chorus)
Go head you know we getting plenty of Dough
Go head you know we lighting plenty of dro
Go head you know we coming from Y-O
Go head truly though Go head really though
Go Head you know we hitting plenty of hos
Go head you know we ripping plenty of shows
Go head you know we coming from Y-O
Go head truly though Go head really though

(Sheek)
Now I warned y'all niggas that Sheek was the one
Now I'm warning y'all niggas that I got my gun
Rent to kill, don't worry bout no doctor bill
It ain't gone be one of those just yo casket clothes
Lox, nah you rather f**k wit the cops
Cause I pop and turn y'all like the optimum box
No pay per viev, it's straight hate wit dude
So I'm hungry and let the morgue zip up your crew
you wanna hope on our dicks and go whilly yo bikes
And wear Ruff Ryder tees, motherf**ker please
You a poke-a-nose nigga, want you stick to the skis
And I don't hear it in your raps no more
So I don't bother to go in the store an cop y'all shit
Only time I cop y'all shit if Lox on it
I shoot you in yo mouth ain't no calling the cops
I want my shit back like cash flo and Elian's pop show

Chorus

(Styles)
I'm always that, I'm always this
But the flow stay nasty like hallway piss
If you here the P spitting it's a deep ass song
When I die mama bury me wit street clothes on
Cause drama be the threapy, the beef goes on
shit i've been speaking out a bit makes it a lot
But I was f**king wit the savages, kicking the drop
Live for the money, die for my niggas, run from the law
Catch me smoking my weed or f**king your whore
Push my whip to the limit kind of hoping it flip
Throw my clip to the tip kind of hoping you flip
I feel sorry for the crackheads, but happy for myself
So I got mixed feelings about this hussling shit
I keep saying I'm gone quit after a couple of bricks
But I can't stop building and I don't pop children
But I got no problem kidnapping a bitch

Chorus 2x

. . .


(Daddy) You, over there....with those blue eyes and that blonde hair. Come here, ma!
(Girl) Yes?
(Daddy) I wanna ask you one muthafuckin' question.
(Girl) Yes, daddy?
(Daddy) What are you bitch?
(Girl) I'm a H-O-E...
(Daddy) Are you really? Are you really a H-O-E?
(Girl) I fucked the whole family...
(Daddy) Damn, my niggaz ain't gonna believe this shit.
(Girl) Then gang-bang me...
(Daddy) Oh, I'm gonna rough ride this pussy. I'ma rough ride this pussy.
(Girl) Then beat me....
(Daddy) Oh, I'd like to explore all three holes baby...
(Girl) Put it in my B-U-T-T-T
(Daddy) Ooo...you doin it like that? Oh you a gangsta, huh?
(Girl) Then pee on me...
(Daddy) Oh you a nasty little bitch. You nasty....
(Girl) Then shit on me...
(Daddy) Damn, my niggaz ain't gonna believe this shit. Its over...
(Girl) Then take me...
(Daddy) Oh, do you perform like a muthafuckin professional on camera?
(Girl) Like Janet Jack-me...
(Daddy) So how wide is the pussy? Tell me. How wide is the pussy?
(Girl) Like Vanessa Del Ri(o)....
(Daddy) Whooooo! All this freaky shit and you don't want no cake, no joe, no nothin'?
(Girl) I fuck for free...
(Daddy) There's gotta be a catch to this shit. Something is a catch 22. I don't feel it.
(Girl) I've got H-I-V...
(Daddy) Dirty muthafucka...WHOA

. . .


(Trick) One

(Yung Wun)
y'all done f**ked up now
OH SHIT
Ryde Or Die Nigga

Its Yung Wun with the big gun
What you gon do boy
You betta sit down boy we don't play like that
Betta yet tell ya man to put down the gat
Before it get ugly, I'ma leave ya bloody, LIL BLOODY
Don't play with the gun smoke
For the East to the West Coast
Nigga get ??? no problem Barry
You no cemetery, Home
Is the pipe bomb dropped off in the woods
A man to come home
It's a three be like that
Tell his ass to come right back
To the block with a gat
Standin out in the track with a bumma hard
Bummin weed into the sack
Nigga let the weed smoke blow
I'm intoxicated trying to make a few hits in the head
Baby, cause I be wilder, Big BALLER, call up with quarter
Trying to make a few ??? be borowing from the police
Never wanna follow
And parlor (that's Shit)
And it ain't no stoppin it
Y'all niggas from ??? ain't lockin it

Chorus: repeat 2X

Give it up, Give it up, G-G-Give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put em up, Put em up, P-P-Put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

(Trick Daddy)
Look, I'm slippin right behind ya nigga
Don't try to hide cause I'll find ya nigga
I'm representin big county nigga
I gotta a clip for all ya slimmy niggas
Don't eva try me nigga
Don't try to run no bull shit like that ??? nigga
You know I'ma a fool for this
I gots two for this
I'll tear yo mammy and your crew plus you for this
Them Daddy dollars y'all
My shit harder Dog
Im from the city of Caprise and them parlors y'all
Ima go and kill this nigga
Kiss above this realest nigga
First nigga to take you to the bar and now you feel this nigga
The respect you gotta give us
Slip-N-Slide and Ruff Ryders nigga
And all yo money can't buy this nigga
My exctacy got me wilin nigga
I'm twice that body nigga
About 100 miles an hour nigga

(Swizz Beatz)
Trick Daddy, Trick Daddy
Yung Wun, Yung Wun
Yo, Ball Out

Chorus: repeat 2X

Give it up, Give it up, G-G-Give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
y'all boys betta put em up what
Put em up, Put em up, P-P-Put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

(YUNG WUN)
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH
Wait a minute God Damnit y'all done f**ked up now
y'all gotta nigga from the A on the Ruff Ryde
Representin from the South
In a glass ???
This man got cash in mind
On the cash route
Niggas there with they ass out
Talkin bout YUNG WUN'S A BITCH (MAN)
That DS Cliq
Ima bout to pitch a f**kin fit
And start blowin this bitch
What you think my gun bust ice one
Down in Georgia
Six hours from Florida
Niggas get slaughtered
Boy where Im from
Problems gon get solved
By getting robbed
Causin tear drops and closed caskets
On tha glasses
Get beside theyself
And soficate from plastic
Face down on a mattress

Chorus: repeat 5X

Give it up, Give it up, G-G-Give it up
Them cops on put and they came to town
y'all boys betta put em up, put em up what
Put em up, Put em up, P-P-Put em up
This is a stick up and y'all boys betta give it up

. . .


(DMX)
Wooh
Come on
Wooh
Uh, uh, wooh
Come on
Wooh

Uh, uh uh
Man, I hear you niggas talkin
But'choo walkin the wrong way to really mean it
I done heard it, I done seen it, don't get caught up in between it
Its a dark road you walkin on, same street that I be stalkin on
Suppose to be quiet, but you keep talkin on
Now ya mouth got you in some shit
So we gon' let everybody see your gangsta ass get smaked like a bitch
Guess I'll remind y'all niggas, I can find y'all niggas
Click click, whats up, walk up right behind y'all niggas
Once the four four hit'cha
You ain't going no where but out the door on a stretcha
Boy, I'ma get'cha
Wet y'all niggas up like a pool
cause I done told you, Y'ALL GON' MAKE ME LOSE MY COOL
Yo Knock get the glock, these bitch niggas is actin
Making movies, we'll make a movie about this shit after is happened
All that yappin, that them niggas is gettin away with
Take it easy my friend, let 'em know, dog ain't to be played with

Chorus: DMX

A nigga gotta take a girl with the back
I'm f**kin with the hood and I'm back
I wish you understood why I'm back
It would take a lotta pressure off my back
A nigga gotta take a girl with the back
I'm f**kin with the hood and I'm back
I wish you understood why I'm back
It would take a lotta pressure off my back

(DMX)
Uh, uh, uh
Most of these hard rocks turn out to be soft as wet dog shit
Talkin shit, but when the fog spits, dog they all split
Then all hit the ground around the same time
In the same frame of mind, ?thangs up in the nine?
left them bitches blind, hit 'em up from behind
Yeah, thats how you do that
And he had such a good head up on his shoulders, but I blew that
F**k you black, you new cats don't know somethin important
You die quick f**kin with my shit, and my shits extortin
House rules, when I speak, y'all niggas listen
I drop jewels that y'all cats can't afford to keep missin
Drinkin ??? fueled by drugs
Shits about to get real outta hand dog, betta get ya man dog
Rap shit comes second, I'ma show you what a robber do
Mention ice one more time and I'm robbin you
Tie you up for a week starvin you
Beatin the shit outta you everday, 'cause yo, these niggas gotta pay

Chorus

(DMX)
Uh, uh, uh
Dog it ain't no secret 'bout how its going down once I put on the pressure
It ain't nothing but another nigga put on a stretcher
With a blanket over his face, take him to the morgue with the waste
cause he was in the wrong place at the wrong time
So I gave it to him in his chest
In his throat, in his head, in his back, through his vest, YES
Ain't a whole lot to braking a nigga down fast
They call me black cause thats how I'm gon' be on that ass
Y'all pussy niggas think y'all sweet
But ain't a f**kin thing going down til I eat
So can I beef? You betta while you still got teeth
cause they about to get knocked out, hopped out
On that ass with a blast that'll make ya shit drop out
Popped out, through a you know what
'cause you know why, and you know my
Motherf**kin name up in this game
And bitch, you know I
Will never be crossed flippin, but on some east coast terms
New York niggas do, f**k the perms

Chorus

. . .


Yaaahoooooooooooooooo
Ooo yeah


I've been waiting (Oh yeah)
Spend my time chasing
For your love (Uh huh)
And it's going down tonight (It's going down tonight)

I've been waiting
Spend my time chasing (Yes I did)
For your love
And it's going down tonight (It's going down tonight)


What did you think you would do?
What did you think you'd say?
After I told you how I was feeling
Never thought I'd see this day
I always kept dreaming
Never let failure hurt my heart
I knew that you would soon see better
All I could do is hope and say
Is there a chance or possibility,
That I could get close to you?
I want to get romantic with you
Do all the things that lovers do
Finally all the things that I've done
To get the chance to be with you
It was sure 'nuff worth the wait
Tonight I'll be wrapped up in your arms




I always kept wishing
I always kept praying
Good things come to those who wait
That's what momma always said
Baby that phrase stuck in my head
There's nothing I won't do
To please you
Given the chance, I'll do you right
Even inside I have to know
Is there a chance or a possibility,
That I could get close to you?
I want to get romantic with you
Do all the things that lovers do
Finally all the things that I've done
To get the chance to be with you
I guess it was sure 'nuff worth the wait
Tonight I'll be wrapped up in your arms

X 2

Oooh
Oh yeah
Ooooh yeah
Hey
Baby
Oooooooooooooo
Oooh yeah
Ride or Die
Walk on by
Oh yeah
Hey
Hey
Heeeey

X 2

. . .


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