作曲 : Jacobs, Lunnon, Phillips ...
Ruff Ryder for life (hey) 
Ruff Ryder for life (hey) 
Ruff Ryder for life (hey) [Styles P] 
I'm on my new shit you ain't listening good 
I pull out the hawk use it as a q-tip shot gun up in ya nostrils 
I'm hostile 
D-block totally apostle but no church's lay you out is my soul purpose (yeah) 
Light a blunt hear the ghost out 
I could make ya soul surface 
Here's my philosophy 
I ain't really chillin til 
I'm looking out the windows and see deers on the property rabbits hopping around habit's popping pound lighting blunts constantly ain't no time for me 
SP the war lord take ya jaw off wit a saw-off sawed off 
Top floor or the waldorf bagging the yay we stil trying to get a wagon a today (uh!) 
This is D-block nigga holiday 
Styles and 
I never put my magnum away (hey) [Chorus] [Styles P] 
My yak, My cups, 
My niggaz, 
My ice, Ruff 
Ryder 4 Life (hey) [Sheek Louch] 
My dutch, 
My haze, My spot, 
My life, Ruff 
Ryder 4 Life (hey) [Styles P] 
My money, 
My house, 
My Car, My 
Ice, Ruff 
Ryder 4 Life (hey) [Sheek Louch] 
My niggaz 
Ryde or die side by side by side, you know why? 
Ruff Ryder 4 
Life (hey) [Jadakiss] 
Yo, It a shame what the game has come to 
The pen got a lot niggaz under the same pressure, the gun do 
I understand you living but not that life and stop it you just aight you not that nice nigga 
I pack arenas pack the ninas twenty thou worth of fabric pack the cleaners and 
I just can't say it any clearer only nigga that'll give it to me is the man in the mirror 
They hate it but they love it in exchange 
Piped out the denim seat covers in the 
Range Wiped out all the above slots, 
I'm never gon' cool off 
Nigga I'm dumb hot, 
I get it in one whop 
My man said 
I need a one to three, he illin 
All I need is another 1 in 3 million 
Oh yeah it's nothin to murk you 
I realize it really ain't worth it when 
I'm puffin the purple (hey) [Chorus] [Sheek Louch] 
Yo, Yo, I don't rely on my voice to hold me (nah) 
I spit don't promise niggaz shit can't a gangsta fold me 
I bring it to the hardest nigga in ya crew (what up?) baby nine that let off like a miniature ooz we could let it ratta - tatta (yeah) climb the fire escape ladder 
Dump out watch muh'****ers scatter 
Lose bladder, piss in ya favorite jeans 
Niggaz make-up more shit than 
Maybeline 
The Vince 
McMahon, Ted 
DeBiase Thirty of 
Courvoise', blunt in my mouth 
Crack in the streets weed bags bustin out 
Dime bitches that 
I'm ****in wanna curse me out 
Hatin niggaz in the hood wanna hearse me out 
**** 'em, come do it, the rifle is antique knife on the tip glorying niggaz got connects with some old civil warrior niggaz lets go [Chorus]