Ride or Die - Reek Daddy, AP-9, Dirty J

Woo

Woo

All my niggas gone bust they guns

Real mother fuckers never trust niggas, but we trust our guns

Get money is the code of the streets

Live by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streets

Like the older the hammer, the older the beef

You holding the can and you busting or you die with your heat

Me and my niggas gone survive in the street

For one reason, we ain’t living to kill niggas, just dieing to sleep

I’m in the hood and I ain’t wear a vest

Push a stock GTO, with a pump in the seat and a desert eagle in the head rest

Live and I took 5, get respect cause I won’t die

So its a bet that I’m gone ride

I’m riding dog, you riding with me?

(ride with me)

If I’m frying dog, you frying with me?

(fry with me)

If I’m dieing dog, you dieing with me?

(die with me)

Just know when the beef come, we all busting our guns (what?)

We can beef, I don’t give a fuck, any street, stoop or block

Compton, New York City of Rocks

You ain’t never been out the hood?

don’t go to far

12 gauge shotty, with a pump like Joe Dumar’s

Shells the size of Sprewell lugs, go through cars

Rip apart your new Bentley nigga, like Dre sent me

The haze in me make me wanna kick back

Your man work out at bally’s, put the 38 to a 6 pack

And beef keep the E. R full til the shit packed

No more rooms?

let em die in the streets

Im from the CPT, where niggas dieing to eat

Them niggas with scars under they left eye and they cheek

Park a 745 on your street

Like mother fucker if you don’t ride with me, you can die with the enemy

Or die like the Kennedy’s nigga

I empty desert clips out like a bottle of Hennessy nigga

I got niggas that’ll beef for the game

Run up on your man, splat his brain then bring you his chain

So if you owe my hood, you better pay up

I roll with killas, that’ll put you in a hole like a lay up

Ain’t no sleep on the block, my niggas stay up

Cause they ain’t trying to miss sales

They trying to tip over fish scales

Be in the XXL, and its only 6 street rappers if you wanna be real

That go for the whole industry you bitch ass niggas

Say my name in a verse if you ready to die

I call up my Harlem niggas on the i95

10 minutes later you dead on the I95

Aftermath mother fucker, we ain’t playing this shit

50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and Em

Its our house and we in the front yard

So fuck with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards