Оригинален текст
(feat. Eightball, Fiend, Yung Wun)
Fiend WHOMP! WHOMP!
Chorus: Fiend
What you ride for? What you die for? BOUNCE!
I got some girls that'll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP!)
What you ride for? What you die for? BOUNCE!
I got some girls that'll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP! WHOMP!)
Fiend
Cornbread by the ki, the language when you call on a G
Prices cut (?) when you ballin on me
Sleepy I'll fk all over your jones, holla at my cousin for zones
He don't communicate with Fiend unless you're buildin a home
Hustler kill on his momma, before he short me
Shoot him in his heart then go take it to heart, see gon' mob me (?)
Ghetto red hot, seventeen ward block
Yes I issue more s**t for you to cop, then store it by the docks
Hide the fun if you can't afford cops
So ain't no tellin where your boy rots
I employ Rotts that be wildin off the rocks
Speak in fives - like gimme what you got
And still pop a nigg* as* from the rooftop
And still catch the 'Kiss performance later with The L.O.X.
We real raw - my dog collar signin with the R and R
fk with me you blow up with your car, (?)
Yung Wun
How come I don't stop in this
You wanna ride get in and get gone, gotta get my thug on
You wanna war? Okay.. alright.. bring it on
Touch me, you ashes (boy) I'ma leave you gaseous (uh-huh)
I'm a ghetto b*stard if I want it let me have it (woo!)
You play the game raw, I make a fkin mess (BLAOW!)
You play thug in the streets I'm wavin at your chest (nigg*)
You heard about me boy, you don't want no drama
I make it hard for you to breathe in the streets
while finessin your baby momma - get your mind right shawty
while you poppin that X, I'ma pop yo' chest
And leave you dead in the party like soakin wet
That's what happens when you flex
In the A-T-L shawty don't be caught in the hype
I make two phone calls from a pay phone and there go your life
Chorus - 2X
Eightball
Yeah
I, lock s**t like a, big pimp nigg*
Eight mackin with no, fake s**t nigg*
Coast to coast tossin hoes with my clique nigg*
Stick my clip in, and do a hit for 'Kiss nigg*
Dirty money - the only way for this nigg*
Hustle after hustle - tryin to be a rich nigg*
If I get caught up, I'll never be a snitch nigg*
We pimpin hard charge it all to a b*tch nigg*
Under my denim is a big fo'-fifth nigg*
fkin with me is like, jumpin off a cliff nigg*
And I don't practice I was born with this gift nigg*
Pure pimpin from my brain to my lips nigg*
Sticky green takes my mind on a trip nigg*
In A-T-L I get my Gucci down at Phipps nigg*
We call 'em slabs in New York they call 'em whips nigg*
One hundred baby - Eightball gotta dip nigg*
Jadakiss
Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
Uh, uh - yo when I'm loadin the clips, I hate, face be on 'em
That's why I stopped coppin the guns with safeties on 'em
When I touch down, call me up, I'm on the porch
with the mac, servin "Eightballs" and up
You wanna know why is broke, because they hate money
The rims that I'm sittin on is in they late twenties
girls wanna see me holla at 'em, throw a dollar at 'em and
if they hustle throw some hard or some powder at 'em
This is for my South
Gold and platinum ice in they mouth
LET'S RIDE OUT
Everybody gon' follow the girls
until they realize, bullets gon' follow the stitches
On the other hand, s**t is real low, it's a fact that
nine out of ten mouths get 'em killed though
What you ride for? What you die for?
Cause I got some and some girls that's my word that I kill for
Chorus - 2X
