Lyrics:
tapes, yeah, forever
Yo word
Yo one fro the trouble
Two for the time
Three fro the rumble
Four for the rhyme
Do that crooklyn shit style all the time
my whole crew
Blast your family off the porch
Without thinkin' it through
Bitch, I'm a Ryda!
I'ma be a Ryda, you can ride with me
I'ma ride for you,
how there's 4 billion of you and only a handful of guys willing to pay your cell phone bill or Cashapp you $40 every time you ask for Taco Bell
Who
Therefore the sauna, I live by the oath (hey, yeah)
Got to get the money bag, yo (yeah)
Fifteen hundred, two-three times, then four (yeah)
Nigga better
more guys, sucked eight, nine men
I'm takin' two by fours, to our eight by tens
Bitch, it's you I tore, out the frame, I win
Put up a new high score,
rizzle dizzle dazzle, tears up the band like ?
I blows with my flows bust your nose kick the ass of pros
who ain't, got the how-knows, to make
mothafuckas right quick
Huh, 9am, ain't even got my ass out of the bed
Pick up my phone and I sent you a text, huh
I ain't even brush my fuckin' teeth yet
You
Project style, ate government cheese for a while
Pop Duke wasn't there 'cause he had to do a bid
so momma love stuck with these bad ass kids
She
represent my hood and my homies for mad blocks
Here to slaughter all you fake ass Biggie's and 2Pac's
Two glocks, it ain't enough, you better hit
yeah, 48 hours for a 24-hour check
Lining up the moves praying that they all connect
I Got that blade 4 niggas trying to come 4 my neck
I call
Bro just bought 'em a gold plated pistol shit
It look like he won him a Emmy
Only two of us with three or four straps in this bitch
It's a stolo we
[Verse 1: Lloyd Banks]
Around here them boys, 'dem don't play (uh)
You can hear the sounds of gun spray erry day
I give 2 fucks by what a bird say
maraud
By any means
Make sure we eat
Nigga that been the law
Never switch up for Bitch
Or
Kriss Cross ya dogs
Never in life turn yo back on bros
That’s
What you really talkin' bout
You ain't shit, but a bitch, damn
This is just a freestyle for your information
I'm really sittin' in my room, hella
Bendin' corners up and down wayside,
From greens road to that Antoine drive,
Crew on da side playin' N-B-A live,
I'm too cool for school ridin'
down like that for the nine-seven
This is my dialogue on this album
It's Magoo's album featuring me, Timbaland
'Cause he's so ill, I can't even rap
but his right hand scuba dived
Don't die by a sword that you used to shine
You can drown for your king, you don't know about Ophelia
Cah we got iron,
holy war, it be hard to dip and dodge
Police squads tryin to bogard, we rip and rob
The boulevard ain't safe for your kids, that's how it is
In
yo ass
Member u wud fight fa me r I c e
Guess Im no longer worth the fade not enough ta chase
(Bridge 4) (4:59 - 5:18)
Had, no where 2 go found a new
of their enemies
Old country ass nigga with a gold in the front
Be the same muthafucka that get your bitch ass stomped
Underestimatin hatin got
and good to go, call me a Dayton rater
No love for hoes, cause they some muthafuckin playa haters.
Chorus (4X): My shit is pro and good to go, call
the time on your kettle is
It's my time, when I said it, I meant it
Back with another album, told my accountant I'm gonna clean up
Business flight, so I
tuck in your chin
Pail by your bedside
Now the breathing begins
Oh, oh God
Just let me get through this last one
If you let me make it
If you let
tuck in your chin
Pail by your bedside
Now the breathing begins
Oh, oh God
Just let me get through this last one
If you let me make it
If you let
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