Mike - Ride or Die lyrics

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Mike - Ride or Die lyrics

[Intro: Stevie J] I'm rolling with Roc-A-Fella man Cause they got money man, haha [Jay-Z] Uh-huh, uh-huh uh UH, uh-huh, Hova Yeah, Stevie J n***a Y'all ready? Yo, yo [Hook x3: Jay-Z] How many y'all wanna ride tonight (ride tonight) How many y'all down to die tonight (die tonight) How many y'all wanna ride tonight n***a ride or die or ride or die [Verse 1: Jay Z] A-yo f** y'all, n***as I crush y'all, rush y'all With the four drawn and I touch y'all, plus y'all Little motherf**ers ain't ready for war I seen your team in a crisis before, thought I forgot? The same rules apply, don't try to switch up your style Y'all n***as is pumpkin pie, and that's plain as I Much better than you cat, shocked when I got the news that This n***a ready for war, well where that fool at? I bruise wack rap n***as severely punish them Especially those that get f**ed for they publishing, heh Always gotta be the weakest n***a out the crew I probably make more money off yo' album, than you You see the respect I get every time I come through Check your own videos, you'll always be number two n***as talking real greasy on them R&B records But I'm platinum a million times n***a, check the credits S. Carter, ghost writer, and for the right price I can even make YO' sh** tighter I roast n***as like ya, smoke n***as like ya Take your little j**els and put the toast to n***as like ya You know what the f** we do and why we done it How I bring it to n***as who, probably want it Keep playing, you gone find me in your lobby blunted And I don't even smoke n***a, ain't no joke n***as cat fighting with Jigga, kicking sneaky sh** Making little tapes but keeping it secret Cause I kick that deep sh** that divide your peeps sh** Now I don't know if you f**ing with Jigga Spitting that weak sh** y'all [Hook] [Verse 2: Jay-Z] Yeah, yeah n***as don't want it with Jig, cause something's got to give I got homes where you hide, I hustle where you live Jigga's the Don, b**hes scream "Jigga damn the Dick is the bomb, about as thick as an arm" Mr. Exxon, gas 'em with the wit and the charm b**h I'm trying to tell you like Nicholas Barnes I'm a big cat, listen mami, can you dig that? Cars, j**elry, homes, I did that O's, shootouts, ki's, I live that Actresses, models, chicken heads, hit that I get stacks and still I kick back And run up on n***as with the midac, where the sh** at? [Hook x2] [Verse 3: Jay-Z] Time to separate The platinum from the white gold, right from the door The real from the fake, ready rock from the raw The boss from the runners, cats who ride dick From the cats with the numbers, the five from the six I got cop ‘n crash money, pop the dash money Press the bu*ton, all of sudden, Glock in the stash money Beef with Jigga, watch yo' a** money It's El Presidente, top bra** money Now I don't flash the steel, I blast for real My motto: you only good as the last n***a you k** I'm here to snatch this mil, n***a that's for real If you rolling with me grab the wheel, let's ride huh? [Hook]