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Artist: 50 Cent
Album:  The Massacre
Song:   Ryder Music
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[50 Cent]
Yeah, yeah we can ride to this
Just lay back, and cruise

Here's a taste of my life, it's bitter and sweet
I pour my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat
I put my life on the line when I'm out on the street
Put my Teflon on, and roll with my heat
I keep my circle nice and small, I don't fuck with these clown niggaz
In the race for the cheese I run laps around niggaz
Soon as I step on stage, the crowd applauds
Sooner as my sneaker wear in stores, Reebok stock soared
I ain't gotta say I'm a boss, niggaz could tell
A East coast crib the size of a small hotel
The shit journalists, write about me leave me confused
Have me feelin like the heavyweight champ when he lose
I read somewhere, I'm homophobic - sheeit
Go through the hood, there's mad niggaz on my dick
Now we can get hostile, or we can this smooth
TNT around, I can still make blow move

[Chorus - repeat 2X]
This is what you call rider music
All the gangsters are ridin to it - c'mon, let's roll
I can show you how we do it
When we ride to that rider music - let's go, let's go

[50 Cent]
Last year I woke up with good luck, damn it feels good
On the low, I done fucked like half of Hollywood
Had yo' favorite actress, from yo' favorite shows
In my favorite position, you know how it goes
And my Bentley bumpin Prince shit, this is "When Doves Cry"
This is what it sounds like when hollow-tip slugs fly
Homey this is somethin you can ride and smoke to
Stay on point, cause niggaz will ride and smoke you
Jealousy's for women but some niggaz is bitch made
They make you wanna run across they head with a switchblade
They point the finger at me, sayin I'm bugged
My flow's crack, you listen?  Your fuckin brain's on drugs
Look ice drippin on my neck, hands grippin on a tec
Fool trippin threw a set, you can get yo' ass wet
Cards messin up my deck, screws loose show respect
You try to come at me kid yo' ass better come correct


[50 Cent]
My momma gave birth to a winner, I gotta win
Pray the Lord forgive me for my sins (uh-huh) I'm still thuggin
Cruisin, rims gleamin like the stones on my wrist
Zonin, guess this is how it feels to be rich
Homey, you all front backwards if you chasin a bitch
Stupid - chase the paper they come with the shit
I'm fallin, in love with success
Entrepeneur, conniseur, I maneuver the best
Rollin, Ruger on my lap, rubber grip on the handle
Stunner have your homies burnin rest in peace candles
As wise men speak I listen and learn
A man dies, a baby's born, my nigga the world turns
Rappers I make 'em sick, when I say I'm the shit
They mistake my confidence for arrogance, they hate on the kid
In 99 I had a vision and made a decision
Bein broke is against my religion, now I'm caked up - what?

[Chorus] - to fade