Ruff Ryders All Star Freestyle lyrics

by

Jadakiss


[Intro: Styles-P]
Ruff Ryder Three, Time for the younger generation to blow
You know I brought my n*gga with me
D-Block

[Verse 1: Jae Hood]
Hey yo, it's Jae Hood b*tch respect my bars
The doctors had to piece together your face like a collage
n*ggas always talk breezy till the steel come out
And slugs rip through their gums and their grill come out
Motherf*ck you and f*ck your mans
If I don't clap you in the dome
I'm a leave clips in your diaphragm
I'm the hood prophet
Puff purple instead of chocolate
Stay from around chumps and cowards cause they gossip
And I'm a stay on the corner like stop signs
With a pack of them creamy colored rocks and the Glock nine
When you speaking of the hardest n*gga
Bring hood's name up
D Block b*tch, we about to have the game chained up
My words too strong, bars too powerful
And your towel can't dry you when the dumdums shower you
Your mad because your garbage and your lyrics is boring
And your whip was made that same year you was born in
[Verse 2: Shiz Lansky]
Listen man, Don't worry how many gats this crook has
Just know I stay strapped like book bags
b*tch is shook ass
You just getting off your porch
And me? I'm just getting off in court
I could make sure your coffin bought
Why would you mention a burner?
There is a difference between rapping and attempting to murder
Talking the sh*t you living and talking the sh*t you heard of
You said f*ck Larceny?
What is you crazy, b*tch?
Before you walk the streets, here's a few safety tips
Watch who you speaking bout and watch who you speaking to
The cats you speaking bout could show you what the heat could do
A respirator is what you'll be breathing through
And you got beef with who that you need toast
The closest you came to beef was meat loaf
When we pose with bats and pea coats
Y'all n*ggas better be close

[Verse 3: Cam]
To f*ck with Cam, y'all b*tches better hope and dream
Every gun that I own got a scope and beam
When I approach the scene shake the dice, rook the team
Best b*tch on the east coast since Queen
Latifah, buy reefer, fly diva
Ride deeper, four pound bump louder than five speaker
Spit fire, hot lava flow
Don't get it twisted, I'm not one of them Prada ho's
Catch me in Escada clothes, with a lot of dough
That's not mine, it's his
I need a lot more to live
You got to get the king before the kid
How you think a b*tch like me afford to live motherf*cker?
[Styles]
That's a bad b*tch, Shiz you a bad ass n*gga, It's the younger generation, killing y'all, Lock, get busy on these n*ggas

[Verse 4: Lock]
Hey look, I'm trying to sell mad gravy
So I get birds from my crew and make Erykah Badu my "Bag Lady"
You that crazy? Squeeze, I know you ain't spitting shells
Your hand shake so much it shows up on the Richter scale
I made the huskiest n*ggas look like they had sickle cell
I don't just sell bricks, dog I got a b*tch for sale
So let me find the n*gga that hating Lock
No coffin, he get buried in the refrigerator box
God damn, I'm a hot man
I'm telling you straight up, I got my weight up, Jacob
Call my wrists Roxanne
Cause if I wore it in a dark room
You and your man would hate it, I'mma look animated like a cartoon
Bottom line, I'm telling you that you ain't f*cking with me
Hard, nobody guards, you want a shot, come and get me
I'm not a sucker, nor is any n*gga running with me
And why are y'all balling with wheels if they under fifty
n*gga

[Verse 5: Rockstar]
Lock and blocks the motto
Got more slow than Dr. Zhivago
Same mind state that makes a poem rock in Chicago
But I don't get my gangster from movies
I'm a rockstar, 5 star teles, running with gangsters and groupies
Come through and leave a voice sick
Cause my F-type steers with a joystick
I'm the heart in my era
Listen, I lead an artistic life
Paint pictures with my actions, ain't no margin for error
My innate features, leave n*ggas dismayed, speechless
And please don't mistake weakness for kindness
I f*ck with old timers
So don't make me forget that you real and catch Alzheimers
Motherf*cking hoes never I spoil them
Remember, I'm known to break a b*tch for reckless eyeballing
The top dog, n*gga, I'm the bare truth
You want to get math?
n*gga I'm the square root
The Rockstar
[Verse 6: Cassidy]
I got mean stash
You seen Cass get his thug on
Strip my b*tch, we kiss and get our hug on
She what I put drugs on and get my grub on
And dog, when you park your car, put your club on
The next cat I put the snub on
Ima clap the gat till it get too hot, and that's with gloves on
Y'all love drawing, you should go to an art school
I get my club on with the glow in the dark jewels
Trees in my shoes, polo in the dark blues
And I spark tools that the po and the narcs use
f*ckers, y'all stupid or something
What's the point in pulling out your joint if you ain't shootin at nothing
Dude, fronting will get you banged in the face
If you have braces then you know how the banger will taste
I'm near anything pertaining to cake
And Just copped the blue lighting with the rectangular face
Easy

[Styles]
Easy n*ggas, matter of fact f*ck that go hard
Cass' show these n*ggas how you built
Grab your guns and bust off, my n*gga

[Verse 7: Cassidy]
Yeah it's Cassidy b*tch, get the name clear
I'm what you lame steer got the game scared
Buy 'caine by the square, sell it by the o
I run through snow like a reindeer
The cool kid, got the coke heads nose red like Rudolf
I grind on the strip so hard I got blue balls
I'd rather knock a q off then get blew off
That's how I stay on my toes like my shoes off
You dudes are soft, really b*tches like Ra Paul
When's it's war I move out like U-hauls
I'm a true boss
I send eight balls to the corner
My strip like a pool hall
And I ball like I been in the sport
My trigger finger itching like it got genital warts
Don't play around with him boy (why's that)
Cause Cass is a pain in the ass like hemorrhoids
Faggot!
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