a click We rowdy, many niggas in the TRU click [Chorus] We riders No Limit niggas We riders We TRU niggas We riders We real niggas We riders We thug
, Forever last... This is my realm I am Death - horseman the fourth I am Death - striking you all I am Death - there's no escape I am Death - the Final
make G's, it mold niggaz, get down or lay down like Beanie Mac told niggaz or meet the fo'-fo' nigga I let them guns blow, nigga I'm a rider Thug Life
made G's and mo niggaz Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told niggaz Or meet the fo fo, nigga - I let the guns blow nigga I'm a rider - thug live
"Pedro and Man At The Drive-In," in which a man is whipped and gives cries of satisfaction] [Woman] "Listen all you motherfuckers! Callin' alllll freaks! Bull-daggers! Pussy riders
follow but can't reach me Caught in a maze Catch em, mimicking my style trying to walk this way Impossible my posse dropping you, we Death Row riders
Verse 1: Tupac] Now I can make it happen My rappin' is similar to muthafuckers When they scrappin' Blast and watch em' back up Notorious biggie killer Affiliation with death
'em back (heh heh) Upon my secret arrival Two glock four-fives, time for survival Death to my rivals, tell me what you want lord? Nobody left after the death
, wonder why we gotta die smokin My alibi, I'm victory Like them other vile men I'm marked for death Spendin my nights like its the last one left I'm
me a number of less fortunate rappers have joined together in conspiracy to assassinate the character of not only Mr. Shakur, but of Death Row records
Fuck it I'm makin niggas kick the bucket when I check em' by inducis Ain't no think to let my shit spin You on my shit list hope you got a death wish
: Lord of the storm rides in the eye, eye of the hurricane Lord of the storm rides in the eye, in the eye of Hell Rider on the night and ruler of the
: The past is gone fading like the sunset fills me up inside dropping like a death threat well i'm a lover and then a fighter no easy rider just like
M.O.P Intro] Hahahahahaaa Yeah Nigga Whoo.. The Smoke of New York Get up, Come On! Ah! [50 Cent (M.O.P) Chorus] There's nowhere to run to when death
's and U's and D's I got my P-H-T-D Pimp hoes to death in '83 Memories they rollin' over dick riders, keep me focused Huh, what you say bro, you aint'
from cages out on highway 9, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line Baby this town rips the bones from your back It's a death trap
