Ww Iii Lyrics - Singles - Ruff Ryders

Ruff Ryders, Ruff Ryders 

Ryde or Die, Volume 2 

(Tugboats, it's over) 

Ahh hahaha 

It's the second time around motherfucker! 

Volume 2, Ryde or Die, biatch! 

Gangsta nigga and we gon' rock this motherfucker, you dig me? 

We the square root of the motherfuckin streets! 

Double R, you cocksuckin sons of bitches! 

Yeah! 

State yo' name gangsta (Big Snoop Dogg) 

Where you representin? (West coast) 

You gon' hold it down? (Please believe it nigga) 

Enough said then nigga (hold up, biatch) 

Mmm, let's make this official 

Shine yo' boots and load yo' pistols 

Pull out yo best credentials cause thislll 

be the official for the fictitial 

Doggy Dogg and Big Swizz'll, nigga blow the whistle 

Smokin on some bomb-beeda secondhand smoke 

will getcha, hitcha, and make you all get the picture 

Dig this, when was the last time you seen me 

posted up West coasted up and sippin on some Remi? 

Believe me, it ain't easy been Deezy (nah it ain't) 

wit these jealous rap niggaz and these punk ass breezies 

Man, I couldn't remember what they told me 

when I first came in the game but thangs done changed 

Call it what you want to, keep the heat up on it 

East, Long Beach, California, spinnin like a 'Tona 

Bangin on the corner, hot like a sauna 

so you best to back up off me or I kick this ? on ya 

State yo' name yungsta (Yung Wun!) 

Where you representin? (ATL shawty!) 

You gon' hold it down? (Damn right!) 

Well nuff said then (Ease up, nigga) 

Shorty pop a lot, actin like you got a lot 

wit all that fake ice on his watch, this nigga want to get got 

Coming to my city wit all that hot shit and his fake ass click 

I'ma put somethin in him and bust his wig, I'm on some thugged out shit 

You better be strapped boy, how you love that boy, act boy 

I'ma break yo back boy, wit a bat boy, where you at boy 

Hold up I'm cold hearted, damn right, I get retarded 

I'm a young'n and down here, bitch I'm the hardest 

You can hoot, hide and talk that shit 

I'ma stay low, keep it real and sho' to come up 

But when I bite you gone feel that there, it's real down here 

Watch your mouth boy, you might get killed down here 

I'm a Ride or Die nigga, put somethin in your eye nigga 

Get beside yourself it's bye bye nigga 

When it come to glock cockin and drop poppin 

I'm the first to hit the block and go to war wit the cops fuck nigga 

State yo' name gangsta (Scarface) 

Where you representin? (Motherfuckin South) 

You gon' hold it down? (You God damn right) 

Enough said then nigga 

Heidi-hoe! Scarface and Don, pullin the strings to your alarm 

Bringin terror wit this beretta, I clutch in my palm 

I'm scarin motherfuckers straight wit mine 

Guerilla tactics, guranteein my enemy die 

It's worldwide army alert for all soldiers 

Either you Ruff Ryde, Ryde Ruff, or roll over 

It's a stick up, so down on yo knees, cause I'm sicker 

Don't disrepect it, you don't disrespect me nigga 

I'm the one these niggaz call on; when negotiations are halted, 

and the time comes for the beatin of the bosses 

Make 'em an offer that can't refuse 

They don't comply, well now I'm bout to stank these fools 

Fool, I guess these niggaz think they can't be moved 

Realizie they don't scare niggaz like they thank they do 

You fuck wit me, I gots to fuck wit you 

World War 3 motherfucker, I thought you knew 

State yo' name gangsta (Jadakiss nigga) 

Where you representin? (East coast dawg) 

You gon' hold it down? (Why wouldn't I?) 

Enough said then nigga (Let's go) 

If you fuckin wit the 'Kiss, you ain't gon' breathe 

The only time I lick in the air is New Year's Eve 

Sonny from "Bronx Tale," you can't leave 

Get kissed on yo' cheek then you meant to die 

Cause when the gun start poppin then my temperature rise 

You know my style 20 niggaz wit 40 Cals 

Nine years ago you was hollerin shorty wild 

Now I'm in the rap game twistin these honies out 

Never left the crack game still on a money route 

I run through the industry looking for enemies 

Y'all niggaz sound sick and Jada the remedy 

Get shot in yo' eyes and mouth 

Can't see can't talk when you fuckin wit the heart of New York 

And that's fouler that swallowin pork 

And to fuck wit the feds dog 

you know I push the prowler to court 

Toast on my lap, got the East Coast on my back, UH 

How many times must I tell you motherfuckers 

We ain't industry niggaz 

We in the streets niggas! You motherfuckin right! 

Ruff Ryders forever, yeah bitch, now what? 

Ride or die, you talk it, we live it (East COAST!) 

So ride or die, you want it, we give it (West COAST!) 

so ride or die, you start it, we end it (Dirty SOUTH!) 

So ride or die, you talk it, we live it (Mid WEST!) 

So ride or die, you want it, we give it (Ruff RYDERS!) 

So ride or die, you start it, we end it (Biatch!) 

Yeah, Double are motherfuckers - Ruff Ryders!