Ryde Or Die Boyz

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 fuck with that

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

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

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

Okay, okay, okay, okay

Okay, okay, okay, okay