All I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel
Be in the hood with all your jewels in the glove box
And I hate cops, 'cause most y'all was dicks in school
(Uh)
(Uh)
(Uh)
I don't give a fuck, never have, never will
Ain't tryin' to talk about what I got now, but I got now
I bust shit down got down kick down shot down
'Cause the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left
(uh,uh, uh, uh )
They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks
Uh, uh, now you motherfuckers
What the science behind that son?
What y'all make in a year, I kick that for a song
We all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time
(Uh)
I'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew
I'm tryin' to leave my kids some real fuckin' change when I die
Let them cats spit that weak shit
Me the Security? Protectin' my body? I let my shotty guard
With what you ain't ready to handle
So you dyin'? It's no problem, no lyin'
I'm dog for life, nigga
(Uh)
From rappin' or tellin' some cat to reach for the sky
I'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
Small yell when I rap, I'm basically talkin' to you
(Uh-huh)
From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tight
Drag's fire, so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry 'em
I say what I want, fuck what y'all think is cool
They gon' need extra chains and extra watches
If it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin' to die
(What)
My niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimes
(I don't know)
Find your man dead in the trunk of a car
Well think about it with the brick in your hand before you throw that
(Uhh)
No parents, tale from my horror's no morals
(Woo!)
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
Yo, aiyyo, aiyyo
Bounty hunt your whole crew till my bullets go through, what?
Uh
For some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard
Ask God why I'm broke, bitch, I'm cooking the pie
(What)
Brand new nine, and an eight in a bubble
(Uh)
A lot of easy walkin'
Y'all bitches fear it cause you weak
They gon' need extra jails and extra cops
All types of burners, even snub glocks
I ain't tryin' to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky
They gon' need extra pits and extra glocks
They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks
Make niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got 'em noddin' off
I put sixteen above ya neck, I love my set
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
I don't care if you rap, I still spit in your grill
Bet you never even felt the heat
And take casket naps, fuck that you shoulda never let this bastard rap
Drag scorch niggaz for dinner but season 'em well
Know what my name means when you hear it in the streets
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
Play Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hard
It happens quick fast nigga, to bitch ass niggaz
I don't brag I let the streets tell po'-po' now you see he fell
Check my car, I don't care, I don't play fair
They gon' need extra chains and extra watches
To drag done ate your food
(What?)
You see the pain in my eye? Nigga, the flame in my eye?
Raised in the wrong era, with no guidance
(Uh)
You ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin'
If I say so myself, it's a wonderful three
Put chill pills in brains, bullets like Tylenol
And for talkin' too much shit? I done fucked niggaz up
Talkin' reckless behind your back, them kiss ass niggaz
You wanna hear it? I make it speak
All that's left of your memory, is a candle
A nice house with five rooms, maybe six
A town where money is coming, eighty bricks
Y'all use beats for help, we help the beats
If I ain't gettin' proper respect
My dough too long, nowadays my flow too strong
Niggaz think they a thug, then thug to death
Streets help niggaz, niggaz don't help the streets
Break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip
Hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin' to bubble
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
And it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear
Drag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin up
Nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats
(Uh-huh)
Like I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin up
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
Till I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease
No pussy gettin' niggaz tryin' to cuff the God
Same niggas that-a rob you love L.O.X.
Keep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chair
(C'mon)
Now don't act, cause actin' might get you rollin'
They gon' need extra guns and extra blocks
Who want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P?
Yo, yo, yo, yo all I need is a big gun and a Coupe that's crazy quick
(They wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde)
It's Jada responsible for breakin' your heart
Creep through the streets
(Uh)
You know I'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and an O
They gon' need extra jails and extra cops
You think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toast
I ain't never sold a brick, I done stuck niggaz up
(What)
(Uh-huh)
It can get "Dark" for real, and I think you already know that
