ride (down south)
Singer: brown, foxy
let's get it hype
nigga
let's get it crump
yeah
yeah
yeah
pass me them swisher sweets
let's get it crump
if a nigga disrespect me i'mma prove my shit and dump
blast ryhmes like i pump
turn your belly to jelly
veteran mc
i don't think you rookies is ready
three hundred and fifty pounds of pressure to deal wit
i run with suave
always packin' something to kill with
feel this bitch
when i get rich i'mma still hustle
go down in history
paper taller then bill russel
kilo flows
i got 'em hid in the basement
choppin boys up
on some puttin' it in they face shit
eight ball
f-a-t m-a-c-k
known for layin' it down
and doin' shit the playa way
callabo's of the dough ain't no secret
space-age pimpin' means i don't do free shit
time waits for no one
it ain't gon' wait for me
yours truly
signed eightball and mjg
- all my hard core niggas
what you want to do?
my real thug-ass niggas
what you want to do?
all my money making bitches if you ride with me
i'mma pimp 'till i die and i'mma ride for free
now where them real bitches at
where them real bitches at
where they at
where they at
where they at
huh?
and where my buck niggas at
where my buck niggas at
where they at
where they at
where they at
come on
i ain't new to this
damn nice bitch that's true to this
money ain't never been a thing to me
always stack my dough
holla back
ass fat
thighs thick
titties perfect
inhale the cheese from here to tel aviv
y'all know it
shit i don't bluff
and no dough? i dont fuck 'em
fuck i'mma fake for?
make mine's
i'mma take yours
cuz i'm no nigga like love b'fore
make bitch scream like
gimme some more
if a nigga broke
what'd you fuck him for?
waste of time
it's like we playette minds
dont stop
get it get it
bitches
take it from a real motherfuckin' pro
y'all get that dough
we don't trust these niggas
they gon' pimp if you let them
from ny to the dirty south
and them bitches' dime tight
i got my mind right
and my ice got the shine right
and if it don't blind bitches
when them lights hit the wrist?
you won't be sticking shit
you be lickin' this
i'm the pimp motherfucker
baby
ice cold
stories so high
i pimp the whole village twice
so tight fold crease right on the president's nose
pimp clothes
drinkin straight henney'and buckstrum
touch toed
hoes take a centerfold pose
break a treat
make 'em pay to enter those
pros
slam those
game tied tight like bows
we never close
three-sixty-five
twenty-four
hand chose bithces a la mode
gettin' sold
plus a load of killer
as chronic gettin' blowed
keep it froze
tucked up in a tupperware bowl
stick of gold
somethin' from the school of the old
forever flows
i take it down as deep as it can go
burn rolls
braids tight
blazed afros
we're pushin' hoes
dicks get erect like poles
pay the toll
mjg is in control
peep dis'
you and them boys need to slow down
up in the morning in the court
it's 'bout to go down
there's no remorse now
better expose rounds
them jackets be on the lose until the dope is found
juvenile's my name
bitch
i represent it to the end
the same shit
niggers don't be wearin suits on theses blocks
all you see is your boys and reeboks
a thin hat to the back with a strap too
willin' to bust a nigga ass if he had to
if you feel the same my nigger
you's a hot boy
blocka
blocka
blocka
better get up off the block
boy
call for the cops
boy your mommy or pops
boy
cash wasn't a million
never hit the spot boy
you want props ha
you sold to the cops ha
you in a cell block ha
cuz you too hot ha
where the real ones at? be-atch. oh
you know how we feel
about all you 'wanna be' ass ghetto super stars
wanna be like 'me ass niggas