eastside ryders
Singer:ruff ryders
who run these streets? love thug beats?
lug heat for the threat not protection
busta tests i got rest 'em
chuck walkin' in my khakis
gang bangin' nigga brang it at me
ruff ryder loved by the masses
we the niggas holla out the set when we blastin'
get in the way of villan and tray spray hot rounds
suckas chose thuggin' as a last resort
here we do this shit for sport this crip
well we gonna take your raps
dippin with the jags and 'lacs
eastsidaz roll with ruff rydaz
try to step aside us or get right behind us
gangsta rap gunnin' and havin' moments of violence
puffin' on some cali weed
tryin' to see shaq's salary
make sure the bullets hit u cause i stand on top of ya
bounce like i'm hydrolics
and i got niggaz in the hood that would shoot you over nine dollars
asked if i'm a gang member? fuck nah
boss to the boss and i bang heaters
and you dont wanna see my arm jerk
cause the work i put on your face is bound to make your mom hurt
and this one is for my cali niggaz
ruff ryders and you can die in an ally niggaz
i never write raps like a song can make me
trick off my money and let these bitches break me
cause i'm a cold piece of gold
dickies saggin in the dirt
im an eastside ryde or die nigga
and i believe you fools are some quick to lie niggaz
sippin on sans call me lil bit
fake blow joes not hoppin' lo-lo's
im tired of you bustaz and fake c-o's
we done rounded up the homies and the front line troops
this game dont give me my cheese
im 'a shit down your thorat