[Stylez P]
Holiday Stylez
bitch, i get you shot in the head, or shot in the neck
if i ain't gettin proper respect
i don't care if you rap, i still spit in your grill
i don't give a fuck, never have, never will
if it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to die
i ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky
ask God why i'm broke, bitch, i'm cooking the pie
we all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time
my niggas sell crack, with a package of dimes
hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubble
brand new nine, and a eight in a bubble
i put sixteen above ya neck, i love my set
niggas think they a thug, then thug to death (uh huh)
cuz the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left (what)
you know i'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and a O
you think your shit butter? hop in front of this toast
[Sheek]
yo, aye yo, aye yo
i say what i want, fuck what y'all think is cool
and i hate cops, cuz most of y'all was dicks in school
no pussy gettin niggas, try an' cuff the God
play Sheek out in the yard, but that shit too hard
my doe too long, nowadays, my flow too strong
what y'all make in a year, i kick that for a song
check my car, i don't care i don't play fair
keep some shit in the stash box that get me the chair
and it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear
i'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew
so i don't yell when i rap, i'm basically talkin to you
you see the pain in my eye? nigga, the flame in my eye?
i'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin change when i die
from rappin to tellin some cat to reach for the sky
i'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga
bounty-hunt your whole crew till my bullets go through, what
[Jadakiss]
yo, yo, yo, yo
all i need is a big gun and a coupe that's crazy quick
a nice house with five rooms, maybe six
a town where money is coming, eighty bricks
break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip
bet you never even felt the heat
till i put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease
streets help niggas, niggas don't help the streets
ya'll use beats for help, we help the beats
who want it wit me? who want it with Sheek? who want it wit P?
if i say so myself, it's a wonderful three
be in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox
same niggas that-a rob you, love L.O.X. (uh)
all types of burners, even snub-glocks (uh)
nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats (uh)
find your man dead in the trunk of a car (uh)
It's Jada-the-mwaa, responsible for breakin your heart (uh)
[Drag-On]
creep through the streets, for some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard
me, the security? protectin my body? i let my shotty guard
put chill-pills in brains
bullets like Tylenol, make niggas drowsy
from the blood loss, got 'em noddin off and take casket naps
fuck that, you shoulda never let this bastard rap
all i know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel
no parents, tale from my horror's, no morals
raised in the wrong era, with no guidance
so you dyin? it's no problem, no lyin
Drag's fire
so ya hamburger beef: i french-fry 'em
the Drag, done ate your food
like i know what razors do
and so guard your chin up
Drag barrels, but shit, i spit up, bubble your skin up
Drag scorch niggas for dinner then season 'em well
i don't brag i let the streets tell, po-po, now you see he fell
[DMX]
uh, uh
now you motherfuckers know what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh)
y'all bitches fear it cause you weak, you wanna hear it? i make it speak (what?)
you ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin (uh huh)
what the science behind that son? (I don't know) a lot of easy walkin
i bust shit down (uh), got down (uh), kick down (uh), shot down (uh)
ain't tryin to talk about what i got now, but i got now (what?)
i ain't never sold a brick, i done stuck niggas up (c'mon)
and for talkin too much shit, i done fucked niggas up (uh)
it can get dark for real, and i think you already know that (uh huh)
so think about it, wit the brick in your hand, before you throw that
now don't act, cuz actin might get you rollin with what you ain't ready to handle (uh)
all that's left of your memory, is a candle (woo!)
it happens quick-fast nigga, to bitch-ass niggas
talkin wreckless behind your back, them kiss-ass niggas (uh)
from the rap shit to the street shit, i keep shit tight
let them cats spit that weak shit (shat!), i'm dog for life, nigga!
[Jadakiss (Stylez P) X2]
they gon' need (extra guns and extra blocks)
they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde
they gon' need (extra jails and extra cops)
they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde
they gon' need (extra pits and extra glocks)
they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde
they gon' need (extra chains and extra watches)
they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde,
