Holiday stylesBitch, I get you shot in the head or shot in the neckIf I ain`t gettin` proper respectI don`t care if you rap, I still spit in your grillI don`t give a fuck, never have, never willIf it ain`t on your hip, then you`re lookin` to dieI ain`t tryin` to be the nigga that`s gonna look at the skyAsk God why I`m broke, bitch, I`m cooking the pieWe all gon` die, sooner or later, matter of timeMy niggaz sell crack, with a package of dimesHundred or more, in front of the store, waitin` to bubbleBrand new nine, and an eight in a bubbleI put sixteen above ya neck, I love my setNiggaz think they a thug, then thug to death(Uh-huh)`Cause the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left(What)You know I`m good with a hundred of `dro, gun and an OYou think your shit butter? Hop in front of this toastYo, aiyyo, aiyyoI say what I want, fuck what y`all think is coolAnd I hate cops, `cause most y`all was dicks in schoolNo pussy gettin` niggaz tryin` to cuff the GodPlay Sheik out in the yard, but that shit too hardMy dough too long, nowadays my flow too strongWhat y`all make in a year, I kick that for a songCheck my car, I don`t care, I don`t play fairKeep some shit in the stash box, then get me the chairAnd it don`t buck shot and the blast is hard to hearI`m a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crewSmall yell when I rap, I`m basically talkin` to youYou 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 dieFrom rappin` or tellin` some cat to reach for the skyI`m that hunt down nigga, with the four pound niggaBounty hunt your whole crew till my bullets go through, what?Yo, yo, yo, yo all I need is a big gun and a Coupe that`s crazy quickA nice house with five rooms, maybe sixA town where money is coming, eighty bricksBreak `em down to all twenties, is a crazy flipBet you never even felt the heatTill I put the M1 next to your waves and melt the greaseStreets help niggaz, niggaz don`t help the streetsY`all use beats for help, we help the beatsWho want it with me? Who want it with Sheek? Who want it with P?If I say so myself, it`s a wonderful threeBe in the hood with all your jewels in the glove boxSame 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 responsible for breakin` your heart(Uh)UhCreep through the streetsFor some of y`all rappers, that`s mighty hardMe the Security? Protectin` my body? I let my shotty guardPut chill pills in brains, bullets like TylenolMake niggaz drowsy from the blood loss, got `em noddin` offAnd take casket naps, fuck that you shoulda never let this bastard rapAll I know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkelNo parents, tale from my horror`s no moralsRaised in the wrong era, with no guidanceSo you dyin`? It`s no problem, no lyin`Drag`s fire, so ya hamburger beef? I french-fry `emTo drag done ate your foodLike I know to raise your dukes so guard your chin upDrag barrels, but shit, I spit-bubble your skin upDrag scorch niggaz for dinner but season `em wellI don`t brag I let the streets tell po`-po` now you see he fellUh, uh, now you motherfuckersKnow what my name means when you hear it in the streets(Uh)Y`all bitches fear it cause you weakYou 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 got down kick down shot down(uh,uh, uh, 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 niggaz up(C`mon)And for talkin` too much shit? I done fucked niggaz up(Uh)It can get @Dark@ for real, and I think you already know that(Uh-huh)Well think about it with the brick in your hand before you throw thatNow don`t act, cause actin` might get you rollin`With what you ain`t ready to handle(Uhh)All that`s left of your memory, is a candle(Woo!)It happens quick fast nigga, to bitch ass niggazTalkin` reckless behind your back, them kiss ass niggaz(Uh)From the rap shit to the street shit, I keep shit tightLet them cats spit that weak shit(What)I`m dog for life, niggaThey 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)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)