[Stylez P]

Holiday Stylez

bitch, i get you shot in the head, or shot in the neck

if i ain't gettin proper respect

i don't care if you rap, i still spit in your grill

i don't give a fuck, never have, never will

if it ain't on your hip, then you're lookin to die

i ain't tryin to be the nigga that's gonna look at the sky

ask God why i'm broke, bitch, i'm cooking the pie

we all gon' die, sooner or later, matter of time

my niggas sell crack, with a package of dimes

hundred or more, in front of the store, waitin to bubble

brand new nine, and a eight in a bubble

i put sixteen above ya neck, i love my set

niggas think they a thug, then thug to death (uh huh)

cuz the P gonna squeeze till no slugs is left (what)

you know i'm good with a hundred of 'dro, gun and a O

you think your shit butter? hop in front of this toast

[Sheek]

yo, aye yo, aye yo

i say what i want, fuck what y'all think is cool

and i hate cops, cuz most of y'all was dicks in school

no pussy gettin niggas, try an' cuff the God

play Sheek out in the yard, but that shit too hard

my doe too long, nowadays, my flow too strong

what y'all make in a year, i kick that for a song

check my car, i don't care i don't play fair

keep some shit in the stash box that get me the chair

and it don't buck shot and the blast is hard to hear

i'm a true thug nigga, bring it straight to your crew

so i don't yell when i rap, i'm basically talkin to you

you see the pain in my eye? nigga, the flame in my eye?

i'm tryin to leave my kids some real fuckin change when i die

from rappin to tellin some cat to reach for the sky

i'm that hunt down nigga, with the four pound nigga

bounty-hunt your whole crew till my bullets go through, what

[Jadakiss]

yo, yo, yo, yo

all i need is a big gun and a coupe that's crazy quick

a nice house with five rooms, maybe six

a town where money is coming, eighty bricks

break 'em down to all twenties, is a crazy flip

bet you never even felt the heat

till i put the M1 next to your waves and melt the grease

streets help niggas, niggas don't help the streets

ya'll use beats for help, we help the beats

who want it wit me? who want it with Sheek? who want it wit P?

if i say so myself, it's a wonderful three

be in the hood with all your jewels in the glovebox

same niggas that-a rob you, love L.O.X. (uh)

all types of burners, even snub-glocks (uh)

nice size tecs you could carry in your sweats (uh)

find your man dead in the trunk of a car (uh)

It's Jada-the-mwaa, responsible for breakin your heart (uh)

[Drag-On]

creep through the streets, for some of y'all rappers, that's mighty hard

me, the security? protectin my body? i let my shotty guard

put chill-pills in brains

bullets like Tylenol, make niggas drowsy

from the blood loss, got 'em noddin off and take casket naps

fuck that, you shoulda never let this bastard rap

all i know is cold winter, hot slugs through your snorkel

no parents, tale from my horror's, no morals

raised in the wrong era, with no guidance

so you dyin? it's no problem, no lyin

Drag's fire

so ya hamburger beef: i french-fry 'em

the Drag, done ate your food

like i know what razors do

and so guard your chin up

Drag barrels, but shit, i spit up, bubble your skin up

Drag scorch niggas for dinner then season 'em well

i don't brag i let the streets tell, po-po, now you see he fell

[DMX]

uh, uh

now you motherfuckers know what my name means when you hear it in the streets (uh)

y'all bitches fear it cause you weak, you wanna hear it? i make it speak (what?)

you ain't ever bust a gun, but there's a lot of greasy talkin (uh huh)

what the science behind that son? (I don't know) a lot of easy walkin

i bust shit down (uh), got down (uh), kick down (uh), shot down (uh)

ain't tryin to talk about what i got now, but i got now (what?)

i ain't never sold a brick, i done stuck niggas up (c'mon)

and for talkin too much shit, i done fucked niggas up (uh)

it can get dark for real, and i think you already know that (uh huh)

so think about it, wit the brick in your hand, before you throw that

now don't act, cuz actin might get you rollin with what you ain't ready to handle (uh)

all that's left of your memory, is a candle (woo!)

it happens quick-fast nigga, to bitch-ass niggas

talkin wreckless behind your back, them kiss-ass niggas (uh)

from the rap shit to the street shit, i keep shit tight

let them cats spit that weak shit (shat!), i'm dog for life, nigga!

[Jadakiss (Stylez P) X2]

they gon' need (extra guns and extra blocks)

they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde

they gon' need (extra jails and extra cops)

they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde

they gon' need (extra pits and extra glocks)

they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde

they gon' need (extra chains and extra watches)

they wanna Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde, Ruff Ryde,