RUFF RYDERS - Down Bottom Lyrics

Lyrics genres
Latin American
Country music
Electronic music
Electro / Electro Funk
Electronic dance music
Melodic music
Metal music
Ska, Reggae, Dub
Hip hop, Rap, R&B
African music

R : RUFF RYDERS : Ryde or Die-vol. I

Ryde or Die-vol. I
Down Bottom Lyrics

Down Bottom


Ha, ha, ha oh, damn now bop to this oh yeah y'all know what this is flame on juvenile drag-on flame on and now swizz, swizz beatz yeah


Me and my niggas done licked shots
Even done hit cops
Bet y'all niggas can't wait till my shit drop
Treat you like your moma given' lip to pop
Nigga you don't want my paper drop
Cause that means I'm empty
And your full of it
Check what the bullet did
Missiles gonna hit you get you
Rip through tissue should have never rhymed this cause I miss you
I make plus cash y'all little niggas can't fuck wit drag
Got the chain out so it's bust and grab
Nigga fuck that you better bust back 'fore ya nigga ask back where the vest at
Rock like a girl but you can't trust cash
Spit like a fire but you can't touch black
All you can do is cuss back and read back how you bust gats
Nigga we don't need that I don't care about your feed back
Y'all niggas don't feed drag
Tell a motherfucker pull out bust a bullet out in ya safe house
Nigga where the keys at nigga where the stash at nigga where the weed at
Nigga pass that 'fore I pull my trigger
Mater fact where the ass at cause I got the ruff ryders
And I ain't talkin bout my niggas
Nigga we can go hoe for hoe toe to toe blow for blow
And when you fell your nose crack
That mean I broke that I'm fittin to po-po wit a flame thrower like I told yo' befo' ya know
You can't handle it you can put me on wax but my fire burn candles
And who that nigga ruff rydin' drag-on y'all niggas and south siders

Chorus (drag-on:)

Do y'all niggas bust y'all guns

(chant:) hell yeah we bust our guns

(drag-on:) do you fuck them 'till they cum

(chant:) damn right we make them cum

(drag-on:) it's for the north

(voices:) head south, head east, head west

(drag-on:) ruff ryders gonna show y'all niggas who rides the best



In the late night
We be cockin high givin' you stage fright
Yo' head might explode
When I bust with the lead pipe
And I say right
Juvenile hey tight
Stay hype
Now page mike
And make sure he got all the yeah aight
I'm tired of niggas be thinkin that you usein' me
Runnin with them petty ass niggas lookin' like fools to me
I'm workin wit some change ha
And ain't afraid to put 50 up on ya brain ha
You 'bout warin' over ya people I'm the same ha
Look i'ma have some body sayin' thats the shame game
But if them people come they ain't gonna give no names ha
Playin' with the number one son don't play no games ha
Come outside don't see nothin' but camoflage and bricks
Yo' get some boys straped with (ban)danas tryin knock off yo' shit
Ya stankin' bitch I ruff ryde your ass then
Cashin' for money juve ain't gettin nothin' ha, ha, ha that shit is funny

(repat chorus 2x)


When my niggas get knocked we gonna bail them out
When it come to my gun my shells is out
You better get the message cause I done mailed it out
I'ma bang like a hammer and i'ma nail us out
East west the right this for my niggas up north
My guns made in china so you better dust off
Cause when they getcha you gonna be ketchup
I always got chedder I never ass bet ya'
And I won't even sweat ya' we roll much larger and better
My dough is never low
But if drag is down on his last
I'ma reach in my sweater bet my baretta
Make a nigga feel heat in cold weather
Can't stand a nigga hype throw me his bitch
Bitch come to my shit you betta come get her
Be like a dog with a bone I run with her
Y'all make me so tired y'all niggas still rappin' like y'all don't know my flows fire
Y'all ain't got y'all boots ain't got y'all suits probaly got a gun that ain't never shoot when they come you better hope they don't name you
Cause like two sticks rubbin' I'll flame you
Don't try to be me cause I ain't you
'fore I have your spirits with the angels
My shorty keep a gun on the ankles
Wana fuck watch out she will bang you
Cause I taught her well y'all players better haul to hell
But you niggas couldn't borrow a belt
Who evers wit you is gonna jail
Is you iggas bustin' guns or you ain't bustin' none ha
You want to fuck'em till they cum ha
Drag-on juvenille double up what you want ha (repeat chorus 4x)

Other lyrics from Ryde or Die-vol. I album

See more RUFF RYDERS lyrics
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only. 
© Copyright 2006 SpicyLyrics - Lyrics, A-Z Lyrics, AZ Lyrics, Song Lyric Search, Free Music Lyrics, Free Song Lyrics, Lyric Search, Britney Spears, Lirics, Love Lyrics, Lyrics Mp3, Music Lyrics, Pink Floyd, Song Lyrics, Anime Lyrics, Lyrics Com, Rap Lyrics, Songs Lyrics, mp3 downloads, тексты песен, слова песен, песни. All rights reserved. Contact us :
0.0021491050720215 - 2021-03-07 23:56