GQ Beats - Ryder Musik lyrics

2-5!!!!!!!!! GQ Beats!!!! Yeah Christ Castro 2-5 foreva, the Army, yeah Hood father sh**, bow down n***as b**h a** n***as [Tragedy Khadafi] Yo, yo, yo I got b**hes and live n***as that's willing to hustle Master the pressure game putting down my muscle Write that inadvertent crime sh** my .9 spit Reach for my neck and my wrist and swim wit the fish Serve n***as shells wit a helluva disc Specialist wit the briefcase cuffed to my wrist Like Collateral knocking cowards off my list Got guns to splatter you and just shatter your ribs Bloody your crib, ice pick your wife and kids Can't live like a snitch wit a lifeless bid Follow me I'll show you where life isn't a Bridge I'm the Reaper wit the heater and your soul is mine Meaning it's his allow me to define what that is That means no mo' rhyming, no mo' grinding No mo' hundred thou chain laced wit diamonds 2-5 we back n***a reemerge the block Have me write my rhymes all over your back wit an ox (Chorus) Tragedy 2x This is Ryder Musik everybody get touched Pop their top, split their back open like a dutch That means no mo' rhyming, no mo' grinding No mo' hundred thou chain laced wit diamonds [Tragedy Khadafi] Yo, yo You ain't neva lived this life you just playing the part This is an art; I don't write I recite from the heart 3 to 9 locked in the box which sets in the dark Under the dirt them dumb-dumbs tore 'em apart For my n***as on paper reporting once a month PO's ova their shoulder while they pissing in the cup Double-nickel AMG that AR Mag Bloody money hundred thou n***a brown paper bag You stunting like you gangsta but laced in thong And this is when I'm at my best when the pressure is on Consecutive life sentences what I do to the song It's like what the Government did to Bobby Seale Like what the FEDs did to Preme and Murder Inc it's real 2-5 Black Militia bandana in arms Spit it like the Rise N Fall of Nicholas Barnes Run wit ridiculous k**az conspicuous cons Mahdi is the bomb I'ma lickerish don Spit lines that illustrate the realest crimes My mind is designed to write two rhymes at a time Twin Teks on the set, two nickel plated .9's Two hooks you on the sidewalk wit both in your spine The illest alive, 2-5 putting that work When I die be the illest n***a put on the Earth (Chorus) Tragedy 2x [Tragedy Khadafi] Yo, yo, f** the law Pedal to the floor, high speed chases Till I die or locked in the box wit steel bracelets Open cases I'm the opposite what amazes Satellites in orbit, me and my G's is lawless Watching us from outta space moving that raw sh** Rose color gold canary diamond is flawless Stunt till I put the .9 nickel gleam in your back Or the Mac in a green lines on that machine go flat Like the plate of backwooders a**ortment of cognac n***as bow down to my feet call me Don Black In fact black hands, black gloves and black mask React fast 'fore I dump a clip in your black a** (Chorus) Tragedy 2x