Lyric Ryde or Die Boyz - featuring Yung Wun & Larsiny

[Yung Wun]
Man, y all rap niggas is high fashion
Flashin, talker, no action
Read emcees like TV s with captions
Charts we smash on, guns we blast them
Spit fire like blow dryers and drag dash on
Your career won t last long, real name Shawn Lassiter
Four words for y all, F type no passenger
Flow nastier, man you know what I mean
And I keep them diamonds shinin blue, yellow, and green
So the wrist look like a twister mat
Man, I cock the biscuit back and twist ya cap
Opps, clipped ya face just missed ya hat
This go out to those that think this just a rap
Well mister, address the gat and we ll address ya back
Nasty, nasty, spittin discusting raps
And I doubt that cha ll cats can fuck with that

Chorus:

You don t wanna war, you don t wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will rough you up
You don t wanna war, you don t wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will touch you up
You don t wanna war, you don t wanna drummer boy
These Ryde Or Die Boyz will bust you up
You don t wanna war, you don t wanna drummer boy
You don t want no drummer boy

[Larsiny]
I hate cops, and I like you even less
I turn your whole block into a bleedin mess
Niggas talk hard, and get an easy death
Cuz I pop buck shots like I m ???
And I can tell you won t blow, gotta scary finger
All talk, no show, Jerry Springer
I don t care if you a skinny or a burly nigga
I ma have ya face lookin like a blurry mirror
We shake your features, y all make believers
And the eight ll make you shake like you fake the seizure
I ball of the scale, break the meter
And if you ever go to jail, they ll rape and beat cha
Hold up, take a breather, I m way too tough
Got kicked outta pre-school, played to rough
I straight grew up, I m still a bully
Used to take your lunch money now I steal your jewelry

Ha, okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, okay, okay, okay

Chorus

[Yung Wun]
Don t make me reach for these, I got heat to squeeze
Make your face melt like pizza cheese
You need to leave, cuz you don t stand a chance man
I get greasy like mechanic hands
Y all niggas all sweet like candy yams
Clear blocks outs, hop out the family van
Lookin like a handy man, with tools on the waist
Put choo in the ambulance with two s in your face
You se a disgrace, you ve never been hot
And I can tell how you talkin you ain t never been shot
Yo, its whatever or not, if you want it, its war
You can choose what I ma use, the pump or the four
Then decide where you gon die, trunk of the floor
Cuz I ma tell the law I don t know nothing at all
I was just walkin my dog and discovered the ball
A lotta niggas think they hard, this is somethin for y all

Chorus

Okay, okay, okay, okay
Okay, okay, okay, okay

Chorus