LRC歌词
Ride or Die - Game----[replaced by 161666]
Damn
You gone ride or die?
Woo
Woo
All my niggas gone bust they guns
Real mother f**kers 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
[Chorus: x2]
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 f**k, 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 ni**a, 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 sh*t packed
No more rooms? let em die in the streets
I'm 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 f**ker if you don't ride with me, you can die with the enemy
Or die like the Kennedy's ni**a
I empty desert clips out like a bottle of Hennessy ni**a
[Chorus: x2]
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 b**ch a** 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 f**ker, we ain't playing this sh*t
50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and Em
Its our house and we in the front yard
So f**k with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards
[Chorus: x2]
Damn
You gone ride or die?
Woo
Woo
All my niggas gone bust they guns
Real mother f**kers 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
[Chorus: x2]
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 f**k, 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 ni**a, 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 sh*t packed
No more rooms? let em die in the streets
I'm 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 f**ker if you don't ride with me, you can die with the enemy
Or die like the Kennedy's ni**a
I empty desert clips out like a bottle of Hennessy ni**a
[Chorus: x2]
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 b**ch a** 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 f**ker, we ain't playing this sh*t
50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and Em
Its our house and we in the front yard
So f**k with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards
[Chorus: x2]
文本歌词
Ride or Die - Game----
DamnYou gone ride or die?WooWooAll my niggas gone bust they gunsReal mother f**kers never trust niggas, but we trust our gunsGet money is the code of the streetsLive by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streetsLike the older the hammer, the older the beefYou holding the can and you busting or you die with your heatMe and my niggas gone survive in the streetFor one reason, we ain't living to kill niggas, just dieing to sleepI'm in the hood and I ain't wear a vestPush a stock GTO, with a pump in the seat and a desert eagle in the head restLive and I took 5, get respect cause I won't dieSo 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 f**k, any street, stoop or blockCompton, New York City of RocksYou ain't never been out the hood? don't go to far12 gauge shotty, with a pump like Joe Dumar'sShells the size of Sprewell lugs, go through carsRip apart your new Bentley ni**a, like Dre sent meThe haze in me make me wanna kick backYour man work out at bally's, put the 38 to a 6 packAnd beef keep the E.R full til the sh*t packedNo more rooms? let em die in the streetsI'm from the CPT, where niggas dieing to eatThem niggas with scars under they left eye and they cheekPark a 745 on your streetLike mother f**ker if you don't ride with me, you can die with the enemyOr die like the Kennedy's ni**aI empty desert clips out like a bottle of Hennessy ni**a
I got niggas that'll beef for the gameRun up on your man, splat his brain then bring you his chainSo if you owe my hood, you better pay upI roll with killas, that'll put you in a hole like a lay upAin't no sleep on the block, my niggas stay upCause they ain't trying to miss salesThey trying to tip over fish scalesBe in the XXL, and its only 6 street rappers if you wanna be realThat go for the whole industry you b**ch a** niggasSay my name in a verse if you ready to dieI call up my Harlem niggas on the i9510 minutes later you dead on the I95Aftermath mother f**ker, we ain't playing this sh*t50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and EmIts our house and we in the front yardSo f**k with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards
DamnYou gone ride or die?WooWooAll my niggas gone bust they gunsReal mother f**kers never trust niggas, but we trust our gunsGet money is the code of the streetsLive by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streetsLike the older the hammer, the older the beefYou holding the can and you busting or you die with your heatMe and my niggas gone survive in the streetFor one reason, we ain't living to kill niggas, just dieing to sleepI'm in the hood and I ain't wear a vestPush a stock GTO, with a pump in the seat and a desert eagle in the head restLive and I took 5, get respect cause I won't dieSo 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 f**k, any street, stoop or blockCompton, New York City of RocksYou ain't never been out the hood? don't go to far12 gauge shotty, with a pump like Joe Dumar'sShells the size of Sprewell lugs, go through carsRip apart your new Bentley ni**a, like Dre sent meThe haze in me make me wanna kick backYour man work out at bally's, put the 38 to a 6 packAnd beef keep the E.R full til the sh*t packedNo more rooms? let em die in the streetsI'm from the CPT, where niggas dieing to eatThem niggas with scars under they left eye and they cheekPark a 745 on your streetLike mother f**ker if you don't ride with me, you can die with the enemyOr die like the Kennedy's ni**aI empty desert clips out like a bottle of Hennessy ni**a
I got niggas that'll beef for the gameRun up on your man, splat his brain then bring you his chainSo if you owe my hood, you better pay upI roll with killas, that'll put you in a hole like a lay upAin't no sleep on the block, my niggas stay upCause they ain't trying to miss salesThey trying to tip over fish scalesBe in the XXL, and its only 6 street rappers if you wanna be realThat go for the whole industry you b**ch a** niggasSay my name in a verse if you ready to dieI call up my Harlem niggas on the i9510 minutes later you dead on the I95Aftermath mother f**ker, we ain't playing this sh*t50, work ride, Joe, Cube, the Game and EmIts our house and we in the front yardSo f**k with the Dr. and get picked apart like junk yards
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