13 albums
188 lyrics
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Ride or Die - Jay Z

Album: Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life

genre: Rap Rap / Hip Hop

I’m rolling with Roc-A-Fella man
Cause they got money man, haha

Uh-huh, uh-huh uh UH, uh-huh, Hova
Yeah, Stevie J nigga
Y’all ready? Yo, yo

How many y’all wanna ride tonight (ride tonight)
How many y’all down to die tonight (die tonight)
How many y’all wanna ride tonight
Nigga ride or die or ride or die

A-yo fuck y’all, niggas I crush y’all, rush y’all
With the four drawn and I touch y’all, plus y’all
Little motherfuckers ain’t ready for war
I seen your team in a crisis before, thought I forgot?
The same rules apply, don’t try to switch up your style
Y’all niggas is pumpkin pie, and that’s plain as I
Much better than you cat, shocked when I got the news that
This nigga ready for war, well where that fool at?
I bruise wack rap niggas severely punish them
Especially those that get fucked for they publishing, heh
Always gotta be the weakest nigga out the crew
I probably make more money off yo’ album, than you
You see the respect I get every time I come through
Check your own videos, you’ll always be number two
Niggas talking real greasy on them R&B records
Well I’m Platinum a million times nigga, check the credits
S. Carter, ghostwriter, and for the right price
I can even make YO shit tighter
I roast niggas like ya, smoke niggas like ya
Take your little jewels and put the toast to niggas like ya
You know what the fuck we do and why we done it
How I bring it to niggas who, probably want it
Keep playing, you gone find me in your lobby blunted
And I don’t even smoke nigga, ain’t no joke
Niggas cat fighting with Jigga, kicking sneaky shit
Making little tapes but keeping it secret
Cause I kick that deep shit that divide your peeps shit
Now I don’t know if you fucking with Jigga
Spitting that weak shit y’all

Yeah, yeah
Niggas don’t want it with Jig, cause something’s got to give
I got homes where you hide, I hustle where you live
Jigga’s the Don, bitches scream “Jigga damn the
Dick is the bomb, about as thick as an arm”
Mr. Exxon, gas ’em with the wit and the charm
Bitch I’m trying to tell you like Nicholas Barnes
I’m a big cat, listen mami, can you dig that?
Cars, jewelry, homes, I did that
O’s, shootouts, keys, I live that
Actresses, models, chicken heads, hit that
I get stacks and still I kick back
And run up on niggas with the midac, where the shit at?

Time to separate
The platinum from the white gold, right from the door
The real from the fake, ready rock from the raw
The boss from the runners, cats who ride dick
From the cats with the numbers, the five from the six
I got cop ‘n crash money, pop the dash money
Press the button, all of sudden, Glock in the stash money
Beef with Jigga, watch yo’ ass money
It’s El Presidente, top brass money
Now I don’t flash the steel, I blast for real
My motto: you only good as the last nigga you kill
I’m here to snatch this mil, nigga that’s for real
If you rolling with me grab the wheel, let’s ride huh?

photo credit: admin

Lyrics added by Anne Ladybug

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Song details
  • Recording: Tony Black & Doug Wilson
  • Mixing: Stevie J & Tony Black
  • Composition: S. Jordan & Jay Z
  • Vocals: Jay Z
  • Release Date: September 29, 1998
  • Samples: Ghostwriter by Skillz