The present!

Yo, yo, yo!
Ayo if gon' sleep on somethin, might as well be a bed 
And if you gon' crack a nigga, might as well be a head 
Cause if you targettin the L.O.X. You might as as well target a box 
That you gon' sleep in for years, all covered wit rocks 
Cause I think not, I pop shots, I double what y'all got 
Ya hotshots ain't got blocks, llabuta[?] muchacha 
From the days in school, now a motherfucker rule 
And I could drop my chain in court, yeah, keeps ya cool 
That's how ice be, I'm priceless, the iciest 
And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest 
My bullets thump when I'm laced in some fly shit, punk 
The baby nine be on the daily, ain't no poppin a trunk 
But if I pop the trunk, its to hand you a rag 
So you can wipe down the windows on the side of my Jag 
Must I brag? My shit paid for, yours tagged 
And every bitch you grabbed, 
Sheek bend em back 

Ayo I hope you aint tongue-kissin your spouse 
Cause I be makin love in her in the mouth 
Type of cat buck at your house 
Too slick, means she be suckin my dick 
And before you know it, I'ma have her stuffin my bricks 
Jada, if I kiss you now, you'll die later 
I been nice since people was watchin movies on Beta 
Ready to clap, everybody givin me that 
Cause believe it or not, we be the ones settin the traps 
You listen to y'all hits, then listen to our hits 
Ain't nuttin y'all cowards could do but gossip 
That's the reason now y'all players ain't got chips 
Cause everytime I turn around y'all on the L.O.X. dick 
Niggaz thats narrow, I just smack em wit the barrel 
Give it to em at the light, like Kane's cousin Abel 

The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!

Catch you and your son 
Ya know when its done 
Show me the money, I show you a gun 
Cocksucka!!
SP'll spin corner while you party with dun 
I clap you I clap him, and thats rule number one 
Suckin' my clip! 
And I don't give a hell what you spit 
Who you are, where you from, and who the hell you can get 
Cuz I sell records, plus I got a jail record 
Ya niggas ain't sayin' shhhh until ya'll bare weapons 
I'm 3 years older than 20, holdin a Henney 
Can rip a dolla bill but cant fold up a penny 
Wanna murder Styles cocksucka load up the semi 
I'm at your baby mom house, on the steps climbed out 
Like you played the don out, bout to rip your arms out 
You done screwed up and did it, tryin to act like you with it 
Came two in ur short sleeves, three in your fitted 
And even when you dead, you can still flinch and get it 
A ryda that'll smack ya, cock back and clap ya 
Styles P ya favorite rappers favorite rapper 

Aint no surprise killaz, only fuck wit recognized killaz 
Babygirl want the world, gave ya pies killaz 
No tops, take em in all shape and size niggaz 
No lie, prefer them ready do or die killaz 
What? What you want? cutey starin at me like 
"Damn, where you from?" 
You be comin at me like "Can I get some?" 
Lick your lips for this brown sugar 
Suck mine like a thumb, if you want, til I uhhh...

The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!
The Ruff Ryders! (What?) The Ruff Ryders!

I be the D-R, A-G, dash O-N, slash often Comma, burnin niggasz often 
They call me Drag-On, I'm hot scorchin 
Keep the block roastin Light a dutch wit the flames comin, toastin 
In my eyes you could see what summer's holdin 
Realizin, every guy I'll fry or dead rowdy 
I burn to a degree of 130, and my gun dirty 
Cause it got one bury, so you better run, hurry Or catch one early 
You wrong, tryin to touch me, what type of shit you on? 
You better through your boots on and your unflammable suits on 
Cause I'm comin through wit a Yukon Black tinted wit gats in it 
Catch you while you smokin, send your casket, throw the sack in it 
But only half of it, cause y'all like half-ass dude 
And we are one whole, and y'all niggaz is one slash two 
My gun blast you, tryna out the flames, what're you, firemen? 
You'll catch a hell of a Backdraft cause my fire retirin, aight then 

Its my, survival instinct that keeps my head above the water 
Everyday I show another how a lover slaughter 
Flood your daughter, full of more holes than spurges 
Taxin businessmen for stocks over lunches 
Wit these, I shoot the breeze, and extort 
Enough keys from the Cuban, to build a fuckin fort 
Caught up in somethin that I cant control 
Tryna get a hold of a bankroll, let's role 
Catch bodies like a cold, and I stay slick so face it 
Make me chase it, I take your life and erase it 
Wasted, in the fuckin streets cause it ain't worth shit 
The undertaker take your ass unbder the earth quick, 
I Love money, but the scrambles hot 
So i snatch up my man and the gamblin spot 
Twenty grand is got, when niggaz shot, one nigga less 
What used to be his chest is now a mess under his fuckin vest