Album: Ruff Ryders * Ryde or Die Volume One
Aiyyo - these niggaz is crazy baby!
They can't fuck with the Dog (YA KNOW?!?!!)
Yo Swizz, Swizz (my nigga)
Swizz, Swizz, Swizz
Another one? (Swizz)
Another one? (Another one?)
Are we bein greedy - or what?!
I don't think so, uhh
C'mon baby, like you don't know these streets is,
They'll find yo' body but in pieces, cause the beast
on some real cruddy shit
About to split yo' wig with some bloody shit
I ain't droppin nuttin but that ugly shit (C'MON!)
Bite yo hand like I tried yo man cause what you sayin
is nuttin (uh-huh)
Must really think I'm playin but I'll be layin while
Look out, they done let that crook out, and I took
enough of yo' family, to have a fuckin cookout (UH!)
But what kind of get-together, is it when everyone
get hit together
Or when I'm in the chair, just before they hit the
I'ma say it, 'til I know, how much strength is left
And curse all who will breathe in the stench of death
Though on the sixth day after I'm buried I will rise
Enbalmin fluid in my veins and blood, in my eyes (uhh,
And them guys that was laughin don't even smile anymore
How many four-pound rounds can yo' ass endure?
Twenty more, of that RAW, stripped to the flesh (WHAT?!)
A thousand pounds of pressure
Shit that rip through the vest and pull yo' chest
But what's a Ruff Ryder supposed to do, when you frontin?
Give you niggaz what you wantin, muh'fucker, NUTTIN!!