DMX - Ruffest Ryders Lyrics
The present!Yo, yo, yo!Ayo if gon' sleep on somethin, might as well be a bedAnd if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a headCause if you targettin the L.O.X. You might as as well target a boxThat you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocksCause I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all gotYa hotshots ain't got blocks, ?llabuta? muchachaFrom the days in school, now a mother*****er ruleAnd I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya coolThat's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciestAnd I dont gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chestMy bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly shit, punkThe baby nine be on the daily, ain't no poppin a trunkBut if I pop the trunk, its to hand you a ragSo you can wipe down the windows on the side of my JagMust I brag? My shit paid for, yours taggedAnd every ***** you grabbedSheek bend em backAyo I hope you ain't tongue-kissin your spouseCause I be makin love in her in the mouthType of cat buck at your houseToo slick, means she be suckin my dickAnd before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin my bricksJada, if I kiss you now, you'll die laterI been nice since people was watchin movies on BetaReady to clap, everybody givin me thatCause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the trapsYou listen to y'all hits, then listen to our hitsAin't nuttin y'all cowards could do but gossipThat's the reason now y'all players ain't got chipsCause everytime I turn around y'all on the L.O.X. dickNiggas thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrelGive it to em at the light, like Kane's cousin AbelThe Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!Catch you and your sonYa know when its doneShow me the money, I show you a gun*****sucka!!SP'll spin corner while you party with dunI clap you I clap him, and thats rule number oneSuckin' my clip!And I don't give a hell what you spitWho you are, where you from, and who the hell you can getCuz I sell records, plus I got a jail recordYa niggas ain't sayin' shhhh until ya'll bare weaponsIm 3 years older than 20, holdin a HenneyCan rip a dolla bill but can't fold up a pennyWanna murder Styles *****sucka load up the semiIm at your baby mom house, on the steps climbed outLike you played the don out, bout to rip your arms outYou done screwed up and did it, tryin to act like you with itCame two in ur short sleeves, three in your fittedAnd even when you dead, you can still flinch and get itA ryda that'll smack ya, ***** back and clap yaStyles P ya favorite rappers favorite rapperAin't no surprise killaz, only ***** wit recognized killazBabygirl want the world, gave ya pies killazNo tops, take em in all shape and size niggasNo lie, prefer them ready do or die killazWhat? What you want? cutey starin at me like"Damn, where you from?"You be comin at me like "Can I get some?"Lick your lips for this brown sugarSuck mine like a thumb, if you want, til I uhhh...The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!I be the D-R, A-G, dash O-N, slash often Comma, burnin niggasz oftenThey call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchinKeep the block roastin Light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastinIn my eyes you could see what summer's holdinRealizin, every guy I'll fry or dead rowdyI burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirtyCause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry Or catch one earlyYou wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of shit you on?You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits onCause I'm comin through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in itCatch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the sack in itBut only half of it, cause y'all like half-ass dudeAnd we are one whole, and y'all niggas is one slash twoMy gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen?You'll catch a hell of a Backdraft cause my fire retirin, aight thenIts my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the waterEveryday I show another how a lover slaughterFlood your daughter, full of more holes than spurgesTaxin businessmen for stocks over lunchesWit these, I shoot the breeze, and extortEnough keys from the Cuban, to build a *****in fortCaught up in somethin that I can't controlTryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's roleCatch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face itMake me chase it, I take your life and erase itWasted, in the *****in streets cause it ain't worth shitThe undertaker take your ass unbder the earth quickI Love money, but the scrambles hotSo i snatch up my man and the gamblin spotTwenty grand is got, when niggas shot, one nigga lessWhat used to be his chest is now a mess under his *****in vest
