Оригинален текст
Styles - Verse One
Talk, Holiday Styles, S-P or whatever you choose
A pound of weed, four guns and a liter of booze
shoot out they shoes,
Come and fk with me, I can guarantee you'll be makin the news
P flows like NO nigg*, twenty-six but I'm a old nigg*
Don't make me fk around and show
How to leave a room flat, twenty dead
No money, no jewels, bullets in they head
Ain't a nigg* you know could fk with the god
rappins just a hobby, gun bustin a job
cuz the sickest out is the girlst out
And I could take em on the street and straight whip em in the house
Come through in the prettiest Porshe, the grittiest boss
State gotta talk till the city get h*arse
I'm the icin on the cake, gangsta of the state
Guns, money and weight, who you fkin wit dawg?
Chorus - Jadakiss
Uh, I'm a Ruff Ryder
Weed smokin, gun totin' heroin supplier
I'm a Ruff Ryder
On the low dawg, no phone calls, got my s**t wired
I'm a Ruff Ryder
Bust for my , shh, hush for my , all of us survivors
I'm a Ruff Ryder
You got a gun on you, I got a gun on me, both of us could fire
Styles - Verse Two
i'm just dealin with the tension and stress
Understand I'm from the School of Hard Knock and my suspension is death
I keep the P-89 twenty shot in the coat
Better squeeze soon as you see me, you plottin to loc
I'm a little more than itchy
Motherfker, when it's time to splatter your mask or burst your kidneys
So go head and get your sons on me
Like I give a fk, like I'm givin up I got four guns on me
Get down and dirty, all by my lonely
I leave your brains on your block all around your homies
Live by the code of honor, stay holdin armor
I treat beef like a album I could promote the drama
Stay bustin a hammer, sweatin a smilin
And I make sure these motherfkers'll regret while I'm wildin
I'm the hustler on the block
With money on his mind and some bricks in his hand, P can't be stopped, what
Chorus - Jadakiss
Styles - Verse Three
You're dealin with the ghost of the past
You could sleep if you want, and get fked with this toast in your ass
I'm the gangsta and a gentleman, I hope you the best
And tell them clear the front seat and then choke you to death
Throw the gun to the chair try to open your chest
Get blood on the driver's face, window and dash
Burn the car with the body in it, bring you the ash
I get down on a hit like I'm Sigel the cold
That nigg* sniffed up yo coke I could bring you his nose
If he stole money from you P could bring you his hands
The nigg* talk too much I bring the ears of his mans
Need weed to calm down, need money to live life
fk a watch cause my time is tickin
fk a chain I'm already hangin
fk a gang I'm already bangin
Robbin is my only form of steady payment
Play it sweet I might be in your house
L-O-X black mob Holiday and I'm out
What...b*tch?