Dirty Ryders — текст песни (The Lox)

[The Lox]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
What up Looch (What up, what up D-Block)
We did it again shocks, no doubt
Yeah (It`s The Lox!) Still, ain`t nothin` changed (Still a ghost)
It`s still a ghost baby (Come on, what`s up, yeah, yeah, yeah)
You see me don`t say shit nigga (Grab ya burner and bust off)
What (Uh huh, uh huh) yo, hey yo...

You know that motherfucker Sheek Looch is a gladiator
Like Russell Crowe, with my heat in a rad-iator
I come through slow you out there I`m lettin` it go
I got fire for ya ducks you want lissome dro
That`s why I ain`t got mercy for pigs
Off the roof, I let shit parachute to their wigs and their kids
I treat their face like I`m goin` to my safe
Ten to the left, six to the right (Ha ha)
240 pounds and I ain`t tryin` to fight
And they don`t make cuffs strong enough to lock me in
And your vest ain`t thick enough to stop all ten
The sergeant be callin` up ya next-of-kin
But FUCK THAT my guns gotta speech problem
They stutter when they spit
Go through you when they hit
My shit ain`t got no manners
Chromed out sniper rifle with the tank bananas, uh uh

[Hook: Jadakiss]
Training day, you could hear the sirens
All the cops crooked like who you people jivin`
Head shots, shoot between the eyes
And bullets in the dome like all you cowards dyin`
Knife work, stab you in the heart and the throat
And we don`t leave till you gargle or choke
And we Black Mob, L-O-X guerilla niggas
Show you how to kill a nigga, you ain`t got to feel a nigga

I love my niggas, why wouldn`t I
Die for my motherfuckers, how couldn`t I
Want a lot of things but it just ain`t affordable
Only thing that count when you die is what they thought of you
Kid comin` through with a clip full of cop killers
Booted out something decent
Up to light a blunt, wild out, and shoot it out with the precinct
Cops stay crooked, my niggas ain`t nice see
Cause the block stay cookin` I`m coolin` it off
When the pigs come through they medullas is off
Where I`m from dog you rude or you soft
If you say you a killer niggas`ll ask you who did you off
So P keep this hustlin` up
When it comes to these guns or these knives nigga I`m fuckin` you up
And baby we can knuckle it up
I`m always up for a brawl
S-P and I done been through it all


Hey yo, now I know you seen niggas with half a bodies
On top of skateboards, the work of shotties
Shit bags and all that, back to potties
I ain`t a playa but my nine keeps em` hotties
And we don`t run when we hear [* Police Sirens *]
I just hit em` off with cake so they give us a break
And let us know who rattin`
I leave their bodies in the middle of Manhattan
Where Wall Street at, come on

I said all the cops hate us and they got a good reason to
Forty bricks a month, no account unbelievable
Homicide here and there, bitches in pajamas
Holdin` llamas in they dairy-air, playin the fun
We the 3-5-4 boys, play if you one
All they do is call the cop on us
See us in the hood they know we got the glocks on us
Poppin` em` off
Niggas call me the cab driver now I`m droppin em` off

[Hook x2]

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