Ruff Ryders - Ruff Ryders 4 Life lyrics

Ruff Ryder for life (hey) Ruff Ryder for life (hey) Ruff Ryder for life (hey) (Styles P) I'm on my new sh** you ain't listening good I pull out the hawk use it as a q-tip shot gun up in ya nostrils I'm hostile D-block totally apostle but no church's lay you out is my soul purpose (yeah) Light a blunt hear the ghost out I could make ya soul surface Here's my philosophy I ain't really chillin til I'm looking out the windows and see deers on the property rabbits hopping around habit's popping pound lighting blunts constantly ain't no time for me SP the war lord take ya jaw off wit a saw-off sawed off Top floor or the waldorf bagging the yay we stil trying to get a wagon a today (uh!) This is D-block n***a holiday Styles and I never put my magnum away (hey) (Chorus) (Styles P) My yak, My cups, My n***az, My ice, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey) (Sheek Louch) My dutch, My haze, My spot, My life, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey) (Styles P) My money, My house, My Car, My Ice, Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey) (Sheek Louch) My n***az Ryde or die side by side by side, you know why? Ruff Ryder 4 Life (hey) (Jadakiss) Yo, It a shame what the game has come to The pen got a lot n***az under the same pressure, the gun do I understand you living but not that life and stop it you just aight you not that nice n***a I pack arenas pack the ninas twenty thou worth of fabric pack the cleaners and I just can't say it any clearer only n***a that'll give it to me is the man in the mirror They hate it but they love it in exchange Piped out the denim seat covers in the Range Wiped out all the above slots, I'm never gon' cool off n***a I'm dumb hot, I get it in one whop My man said I need a one to three, he illin All I need is another 1 in 3 million Oh yeah it's nothin to murk you I realize it really ain't worth it when I'm puffin the purple (hey) (Chorus) (Sheek Louch) Yo, Yo, I don't rely on my voice to hold me (nah) I spit don't promise n***az sh** can't a gangsta fold me I bring it to the hardest n***a in ya crew (what up?) baby nine that let off like a miniature ooz we could let it ratta - tatta (yeah) climb the fire escape ladder Dump out watch muh'f**ers scatter Lose bladder, piss in ya favorite jeans n***az make-up more sh** than Maybeline The Vince McMahon, Ted DeBiase Thirty of Courvoise', blunt in my mouth Crack in the streets weed bags bustin out Dime b**hes that I'm f**in wanna curse me out Hatin n***az in the hood wanna hearse me out f** 'em, come do it, the rifle is antique knife on the tip glorying n***az got connects with some old civil warrior n***az lets go (Chorus)