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Ruff Ryders - Ryde Or Die-Vol. II Album Lyrics

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Ryde Or Die-Vol. II Album
by  Ruff Ryders


Ruff Ryders - Ryde Or Die-Vol. II Lyrics



  1. 2 Tears in a Bucket
  2. Fright Night
  3. F*ck Da Haters (skit)
  4. Go Head
  5. Got It All
  6. Holiday
  7. I'm A Hoe (skit)
  8. It's a Holiday (skit)
  9. Its Going Down
  10. My Name Is Kiss
  11. Ryde Or Die Boyz
  12. Stomp
  13. The Great
  14. Twisted Heat
  15. Weed, Hoes, Dough
  16. WWIII -

2 Tears in a Bucket


[ Featuring Redman, Method Man, Sheek Louch ]

Uh, haha, Ruff Ryders niggas (all my niggas)
+
(All aboard) Blood in blood out
+
Funk Doc, Sheek Luc', Meth-Tical (what tup niggas?)
+
Yo, yo, ayo yo
+
Soon as I cop the nine, I pop the nine
+
When I take it out the box, I represent LOX
+
Now when I flow, you hit the rewind button
+
So I charge out more, want it all at the door
+
F*ck heat, Sheek walk around with an oven
+
Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill?
+
How its gon' look when I come through your block?
+
Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top
+
Porsche, 300 horse fly by
+
Back open pumpin "How High?" (How High)
+
Yeah, can y'all see that (See that)
+
Bitch you can call me what you want, 'cuz "I'll Be Dat" (Be dat)
+
Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels
+
Long as the condo's paid and the truck I choose
+
I'm tellin y'all niggas, if its not double R
+
I'mma spell my name out on the side of your car
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw
+
A five speed clutch on my paw when I write
+
I glow like the pegs in Lite-Brite
+
3000 volts of lightning when you fly the right kite
+
Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes
+
We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose?
+
When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip
+
I hope your shoes fit for this move and pick
+
I avalanche your camp with, ten feet of snow
+
I'm cold blooded, my fam half-eskimo
+
My flows move like indo
+
Turn ten nickels to ten loads, outta ten sto's
+
Ride the crash course, do the math on it
+
Swizz Beats you can ride Amtrak on it
+
But I'm on it, grillin with George Foreman
+
Ya peeps is at the Grammy Awards cornin
+
The ice, the fat wallet son, I want it
+
And the helicopter warmin before mornin
+
Def Jam nigga, Redman nigga
+
Got - "f*ck ya momma" on my sweat band nigga
+
You tough guys'll get smacked in the club
+
Come with the gun I bought from Mack in the club
+
Its P-P-P from Bricks to Brook-nam (C'mon)
+
(C'mon) Bring me some more ass to whoop on
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Look what the cat dragged in
+
Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror
+
Scoop a high yellow 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 y'all fallin behind
+
Tryin to relight ya lime
+
It's a crime when I drop bomb lines designed
+
To tick, tick, boom blow your mind
+
Yeah me, M-E-T, H, the O, the D
+
Can't be done, like tryin to find a penny in the sea
+
Nigga run for cover son go and get them guns
+
Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around here gettin' ones
+
Swizz Beat the track in the head, but I instead
+
Pull my dart gun and bust sixteen until it's dead
+
I'm the game, all of my dogs be off the chain
+
Yellin Wu Tang, Wu-Tang
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



Uh, haha, Ruff Ryders niggas (all my niggas)
+
(All aboard) Blood in blood out
+
Funk Doc, Sheek Luc', Meth-Tical (what tup niggas?)
+
Yo, yo, ayo yo
+
Soon as I cop the nine, I pop the nine
+
When I take it out the box, I represent LOX
+
Now when I flow, you hit the rewind button
+
So I charge out more, want it all at the door
+
F*ck heat, Sheek walk around with an oven
+
Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill?
+
How its gon' look when I come through your block?
+
Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top
+
Porsche, 300 horse fly by
+
Back open pumpin "How High?" (How High)
+
Yeah, can y'all see that (See that)
+
Bitch you can call me what you want, 'cuz "I'll Be Dat" (Be dat)
+
Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels
+
Long as the condo's paid and the truck I choose
+
I'm tellin y'all niggas, if its not double R
+
I'mma spell my name out on the side of your car
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw
+
A five speed clutch on my paw when I write
+
I glow like the pegs in Lite-Brite
+
3000 volts of lightning when you fly the right kite
+
Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes
+
We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose?
+
When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip
+
I hope your shoes fit for this move and pick
+
I avalanche your camp with, ten feet of snow
+
I'm cold blooded, my fam half-eskimo
+
My flows move like indo
+
Turn ten nickels to ten loads, outta ten sto's
+
Ride the crash course, do the math on it
+
Swizz Beats you can ride Amtrak on it
+
But I'm on it, grillin with George Foreman
+
Ya peeps is at the Grammy Awards cornin
+
The ice, the fat wallet son, I want it
+
And the helicopter warmin before mornin
+
Def Jam nigga, Redman nigga
+
Got - "f*ck ya momma" on my sweat band nigga
+
You tough guys'll get smacked in the club
+
Come with the gun I bought from Mack in the club
+
Its P-P-P from Bricks to Brook-nam (C'mon)
+
(C'mon) Bring me some more ass to whoop on
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Look what the cat dragged in
+
Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror
+
Scoop a high yellow 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 y'all fallin behind
+
Tryin to relight ya lime
+
It's a crime when I drop bomb lines designed
+
To tick, tick, boom blow your mind
+
Yeah me, M-E-T, H, the O, the D
+
Can't be done, like tryin to find a penny in the sea
+
Nigga run for cover son go and get them guns
+
Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around here gettin' ones
+
Swizz Beat the track in the head, but I instead
+
Pull my dart gun and bust sixteen until it's dead
+
I'm the game, all of my dogs be off the chain
+
Yellin Wu Tang, Wu-Tang
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
Come and Ruff Ryde with us
+
If you wanna get high with us
+
If you wanna get down with us
+
Come on now
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Kasseem Dean, Ignatius Jackson, Sean D Jacobs, Reggie Noble, C Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Fright Night


[ Featuring Busta Rhymes, Swizz Beatz ]

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*ck out, bang the f*ckin' floor with your feet
+
Before we bang y'all niggas all with the heat
+
Feed y'all niggas more gutters like a mutherf*ckin' 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*ck 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



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*ck out, bang the f*ckin' floor with your feet
+
Before we bang y'all niggas all with the heat
+
Feed y'all niggas more gutters like a mutherf*ckin' 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*ck 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, TREVOR SMITH, SEAN LASSITER, BARRY REESE
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




F*ck Da Haters (skit)


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Go Head


[ Featuring The Lox ]

(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*ck 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 some more niggas die an turn all you 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
+
Read 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*ck wit the cops
+
Cause I pop and turn y'all like the optimum box
+
No paper feud, 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*cker please
+
You a poke-a-nose nigga, want you stick to the skis
+
And I don't hear a nigga 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
+
Chorus
+
(Styles)
+
I'm always that, I'm always this
+
But the floor 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
+
should've been speaking out of it makes it a lot
+
But I was f*cking 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*cking 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



(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*ck 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 some more niggas die an turn all you 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
+
Read 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*ck wit the cops
+
Cause I pop and turn y'all like the optimum box
+
No paper feud, 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*cker please
+
You a poke-a-nose nigga, want you stick to the skis
+
And I don't hear a nigga 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
+
Chorus
+
(Styles)
+
I'm always that, I'm always this
+
But the floor 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
+
should've been speaking out of it makes it a lot
+
But I was f*cking 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*cking 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, SEAN JACOBS, JASON PHILLIPS, DAVID STYLES
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Got It All


[ Featuring Eve, Jadakiss ]

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
+
Cuz 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)
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



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
+
Cuz 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)
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: JASON PHILLIPS, SHELDON HARRIS, SEAN LASSITER, BARRY REESE, EVE JEFFERS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Holiday


[ Featuring Styles ]

Yeah
+
L O X nigga
+
It don't stop
+
It keep goin, and goin, and goin, and goin
+
Motherf*ckers
+
[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
+
Cuz when these bullets hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat
+
I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours
+
Think you delicious, heard he got shot in the cross
+
Holiday Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
+
F*ck with the poor, so flip to the boots, stick to the truth
+
Do anything it takes just to give it a slue
+
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped
+
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 blowin his whis
+
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: Cuz I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L
+
[Styles Paniro]
+
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even rob 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 dog
+
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 cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



Yeah
+
L O X nigga
+
It don't stop
+
It keep goin, and goin, and goin, and goin
+
Motherf*ckers
+
[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
+
Cuz when these bullets hit your ass I'm like it's only a gat
+
I need a funeral to feel good, I'm hopin it's yours
+
Think you delicious, heard he got shot in the cross
+
Holiday Styles, bitch I broke most of the laws
+
F*ck with the poor, so flip to the boots, stick to the truth
+
Do anything it takes just to give it a slue
+
And missin a tooth, but both of 'em chipped, toaster is gripped
+
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 blowin his whis
+
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: Cuz I know it aint right, that's why I'm blowin a L
+
[Styles Paniro]
+
Yo, I do it all for my niggas, even rob 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 dog
+
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 cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: ANTHONY ACAMPORA, ERIK STEFAN DEAN, STEPHEN PATRICK KILROY, STEPHEN JASON SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




I'm A Hoe (skit)


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

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We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




It's a Holiday (skit)


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Its Going Down


[ Featuring Parle ]

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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

English

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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Derrick Jones, Juano Creary, Todd Cheek
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave




My Name Is Kiss


[ Featuring Jadakiss ]

[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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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, cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



[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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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, cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: DARRIN DEAN, ANTHONY FIELDS, JASON PHILLIPS, JASON T PHILLIPS
Copyright: Lyrics © BEHIND THE ROPES ENTERTAINMENT, WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC INC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Ryde Or Die Boyz


[ Featuring Yung Wun, Larsiny ]

[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*ck 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
+
'Cuz 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, 'cuz 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
+
'Cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



[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*ck 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
+
'Cuz 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, 'cuz 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
+
'Cuz 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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: JAMES ANDERSON, GEORGE S CLINTON, RODNEY JEAN-JACQUES, SEAN M. LASSITER, IMSOMIE LEEPER, BARRY REESE
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management




Stomp


[ Featuring Yung Wun, Trick Daddy ]

[Yung Wun]
+
Y'all done f*cked up now!
+
OH SHIT! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
+
It's mine now! Who want it, HA?
+
D-S, Ryde or Die nigga, you heard that?
+
It's Yung Wun with the big gun, what you gon' do boy?
+
You betta sit down nigga 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 BUDDY
+
I don't play with the gun smoke
+
For the East to the West Coast, nigga give up the ghost
+
No problem Barry; you don't no cemetery, homes
+
Just a pine box dropped off in the woods
+
A man to come home, six-oh-three be like that
+
Catch a case and 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 endz
+
be runnin from the police, never wanna follow the Impala
+
(That's shit) And it ain't no stoppin it
+
Y'all niggas from Georgia ain't lockin it
+
Chorus: repeat 2X
+
Give it up, Give it up, G-G-Give it up
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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 Dade 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
+
I'm fron the city of Caprices and Impalas 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
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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*cked 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*ckin 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
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



[Yung Wun]
+
Y'all done f*cked up now!
+
OH SHIT! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
+
It's mine now! Who want it, HA?
+
D-S, Ryde or Die nigga, you heard that?
+
It's Yung Wun with the big gun, what you gon' do boy?
+
You betta sit down nigga 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 BUDDY
+
I don't play with the gun smoke
+
For the East to the West Coast, nigga give up the ghost
+
No problem Barry; you don't no cemetery, homes
+
Just a pine box dropped off in the woods
+
A man to come home, six-oh-three be like that
+
Catch a case and 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 endz
+
be runnin from the police, never wanna follow the Impala
+
(That's shit) And it ain't no stoppin it
+
Y'all niggas from Georgia ain't lockin it
+
Chorus: repeat 2X
+
Give it up, Give it up, G-G-Give it up
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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 Dade 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
+
I'm fron the city of Caprices and Impalas 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
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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*cked 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*ckin 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
+
These down South boys ain't playin wit yall
+
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
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, UNKNOWN COMPOSER
Copyright: Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




The Great


[ Featuring DMX ]

[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
+
'Cuz 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*ckin 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*ckin 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*ck you black, you new cats don't know somethin important
+
You die quick f*ckin 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, cuz 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
+
'Cuz 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 'cuz thats how I'm gon' be on that ass
+
Y'all pussy niggas think y'all sweet
+
But ain't a f*ckin thing going down til I eat
+
So can I beef? You betta while you still got teeth
+
'Cuz 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
+
Cuz you know why, and you know my
+
Motherf*ckin 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*ck the perms
+
Chorus
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



[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
+
'Cuz 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*ckin 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*ckin 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*ck you black, you new cats don't know somethin important
+
You die quick f*ckin 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, cuz 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
+
'Cuz 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 'cuz thats how I'm gon' be on that ass
+
Y'all pussy niggas think y'all sweet
+
But ain't a f*ckin thing going down til I eat
+
So can I beef? You betta while you still got teeth
+
'Cuz 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
+
Cuz you know why, and you know my
+
Motherf*ckin 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*ck the perms
+
Chorus
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: EARL SIMMONS, IMSOMIE LEEPER, FREDERICK JAMES PERREN, KENI ST. LEWIS
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Twisted Heat


[ Featuring Twista, Drag-On ]

"lyrics hereArtist: Twista, Drag-On
+
Album: Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume Two
+
Song: Twisted Heat
+
Typed by:
+
[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 motherf*ckers 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' f*cked like last night,
+
I don't give a f*ck '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 motherf*cker 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 f*ck up! (Slow down!)
+
Drag, Twista (Listen up!)
+
These motherf*ckers 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 f*cked 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 motherf*cker, 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!)
+
"
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



"lyrics hereArtist: Twista, Drag-On
+
Album: Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume Two
+
Song: Twisted Heat
+
Typed by:
+
[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 motherf*ckers 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' f*cked like last night,
+
I don't give a f*ck '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 motherf*cker 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 f*ck up! (Slow down!)
+
Drag, Twista (Listen up!)
+
These motherf*ckers 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 f*cked 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 motherf*cker, 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!)
+
"
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: KASSEEM DEAN, CARL TERRELL MITCHELL, MEL SMALLS
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Weed, Hoes, Dough


[ Featuring Drag-On ]

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
+
All Drag do is f*ck 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 cuz 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
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
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
+
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
+
I know y'all wish y'all woulda, coulda, shoulda
+
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 cuz 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, cuz I went from pow to pow
+
Wit my family, two R's, Ryde or Die
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
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, weed
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]



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
+
All Drag do is f*ck 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 cuz 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
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
Cuz 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
+
Cuz 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
+
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
+
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
+
I know y'all wish y'all woulda, coulda, shoulda
+
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 cuz 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, cuz I went from pow to pow
+
Wit my family, two R's, Ryde or Die
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
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
+
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, weed
+
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Kasseem Dean, Sheldon Harris, Mel Jason Smalls
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




WWIII -


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in English. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

We currently do not have these lyrics in . If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.

[ Or you can Request them: ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher





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