Ryde On Da Regular lyrics by Styles P - original song full text. Official Ryde On Da Regular lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Styles P – Ryde On Da Regular lyrics
[Chorus]
Every day I ryde on da regular;
You just regular, probably smokin' the regular! (regular!)
Yeah; you the prey, I'm the predator!
Yeah; you the movie, I'm the editor! (editor!) [x2]

Now tell me: whatchu know about the zone?
You go to jail when your man is comin' home. (comin' home!)
Try to get Grants but the plan was all wrong,
Wait for the time but the sand is all gone. (all gone!)
What's the regiment? Smoke weed, get the Benjamins
Hit the spot for cocaine measurin! (measurin!)
Got a Desert Eagle. Need a city eagle!
Tryna tell my niggaz the whole city evil! (whole city evil!)
And all I know is murderers and gritty people.
But it is what it is!
And do what it do. I ain't gettin' money,
My nigga; I keep it movin' cause it ain't good biz! (good biz!)
Half a mill' to a mill', that make you hood rich;
If you dope as a dime, I can get you a good brick. (good brick!)
You don't understand when I'm talkin' this hood shit;
Then turn the volume down and on to the next! (next!)
Got your girl on Patron then she's off to the X,
Got the Lex from the Japanese triad connect.
Iraq, Iran, guns on deck;
In the hands of the shooters if the funds ain't correct! (ain't correct!)
YEAH! - Now what you know about the street life?
You could lose your life any night, you don't creep right. (creep right!)
Hoodie up with the mask down;
School of hard knocks, the Ghost never was the class clown! (class clown!)

[Chorus]

Now tell me: what you know about the hood?
You doin' bad but you plannin' to do good. (do good!)
You wanted platinum but they'll put you in the wood;
You wanna ride and switch sides if you could! (if you could!)
What's the schedule? Hit the streets stay credible;
Everybody food seems edible! (edible!)
Got the trey pound, got the four pound;
Ride around town playin' 'Pac then it's Dogg Pound! (Dogg Pound!)
Keep a big joint or a long sword;
I'm tryna win and fuck the points on the scoreboard! (scoreboard!)
Homie, this the game of death;
No Bruce Lee! I don't use the pen or the looseleaf.
All I need is the Dutchy if not two sheets of bamboo;
Handle. - You like the bars on the bike!
And you don't want a scar for your life;
This is the Ghost, I earned my stars and my stripes! Nigga

[Chorus]
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