(feat. Holiday Styles)



[Tray Deee]

Who run these streets? Love Thug Beats? 

Ruff Spoken, Guns Speak, Blood Leak

Lug heat for the threat not protection, 

Not a question, Busta Tests I got rest 'em

Catch 'Em Slippin, in the hood or the mall

You ain't strapped, we can scrap, I'm good with the Doggs

Fuck Talkin', Chuck Walkin' in my khakis

Rag Swangin', Gang Bangin' nigga brang it at me

Eastsider, Ruff Ryder loved by the masses

We The Niggas holla out the set when we blastin'

Insane 20 gang, anything killa, 

Tracy Davis, Hair Raises, Goldie Loc The Stealer

Gang Lock Down, We Cant Stop Now, 

Get in the way of villan and Tray spray hot rounds

Suckas chose thuggin' as a last resort, aint that a bitch?

Here we do this shit for sport This CRIP



[Tray Deee]

[Chorus:]

We ridaz, keep the heat beside us,

Better Not try us, Touch ya like Midas

Ruff Rydaz, Ride with Eastsidaz, 

Bustaz bow down to crown, the Royal Highness

Well we gonna take your raps, and gats, stacks and sacks

Dippin with the Jags and 'Lacs

Eastsidaz roll with Ruff Rydaz

Try to step aside us or get right behind us



[Styles]

When I die, fuck a moment of silence, this is Holiday

Gangsta rap gunnin' and havin' moments of violence

Its an Eastsider, Ruff Ryder thing, Why you mad at me?

Holdin on an AK, puffin' on some Cali weed

Streets is my girl, asked her to marry me

Yellow and Purple Ears, tryin' to see Shaq's Salary

D-Block Gang, Ruff Ryder Mafia, 

Make Sure the bullets hit u cause i stand on top of ya

Bounce like I'm Hydrolics (Hydrolics), 

And i got niggaz in the hood that would shoot you over nine dollars

Asked if I'm a gang member? Fuck nah, I'm a gang leader

Boss to the boss and I bang heaters

And you dont wanna see my arm jerk

Cause the work i put on your face is bound to make your mom hurt

And this one is for my Cali niggaz

Eastsiders, Ruff Ryders and you can die in an ally niggaz



[Chorus]



[Goldie Loc]

I never write raps like a song can make me

Trick off my money and let these bitches break me

Cause I'm a cold piece of gold, dickies saggin in the dirt

Sellin' my double knucks, to enhance my work

Nigga Q keep it Pimpin, I'm 'a keep it Crippin' (Crippin')

Me and Dip Dippin, Dogg tha Police Trippin'

Im an Eastside Ryde or Die Nigga

And I believe you fools are some quick to lie niggaz

Sippin on Sans call me lil Bit

A down to earth brother, Gang Bangin' and rappin'

Fake Blow Joes not hoppin' Lo-Lo's

Im tired of you bustaz and fake C-O's

You can ask Deal Dogg,Motherfuckin' Scoop

We Done rounded up the homies and the front line troops

Look Cuz, This game dont give me my cheese, 

Im 'a shit down your thorat, with tricks up my sleeve



[Chorus]