DMX - Ryde or Die Boyz

Текст песни DMX - Ryde or Die Boyz

[yung wun]

Man, yall rap niggas is high fashion

Flashin, talker, no action

Read emcees like tvs with captions

Charts we smash on, guns we blast them

Spit fire like blow dryers and drag dash on

Your career wont last long, real name shawn lassiter

Four words for yall, 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 well address ya back

Nasty, nasty, spittin discusting raps

And I doubt that chall cats can fuck with that


You dont wanna war, you dont wanna drummer boy

These ryde or die boyz will rough you up

You dont wanna war, you dont wanna drummer boy

These ryde or die boyz will touch you up

You dont wanna war, you dont wanna drummer boy

These ryde or die boyz will bust you up

You dont wanna war, you dont wanna drummer boy

You dont want no drummer boy


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 Im ? ? ?

And I can tell you wont blow, gotta scary finger

All talk, no show, jerry springer

I dont care if you a skinny or a burly nigga

Ima have ya face lookin like a blurry mirror

We shake your features, yall make believers

And the eightll make you shake like you fake the seizure

I ball of the scale, break the meter

And if you ever go to jail, theyll rape and beatcha

Hold up, take a breather, Im way too tough

Got kicked outta pre-school, played to rough

I straight grew up, Im still a bully

Used to take your lunch money now I steal your jewelry

Ha, okay, okay, okay, okay

Okay, okay, okay, okay


[yung wun]

Dont make me reach for these, I got heat to squeeze

Make your face melt like pizza cheese

You need to leave, cuz you dont stand a chance man

I get greasy like mechanic hands

Yall niggas all sweet like candy yams

Clear blocks outs, hop out the family van

Lookin like a handy man, with tools on the waist

Putchoo in the ambulance with twos in your face

Youse a disgrace, youve never been hot

And I can tell how you talkin you aint never been shot

Yo, its whatever or not, if you want it, its war

You can choose what ima use, the pump or the four

Then decide where you gon die, trunk of the floor

cuz ima tell the law I dont know nothing at all

I was just walkin my dog and discovered the ball

A lotta niggas think they hard, this is somethin for yall


Okay, okay, okay, okay

Okay, okay, okay, okay


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