Hide Out or Ride Out
(Lil' Wayne) I strike a load you get served like we toke with fake busta get smoked with aproach it I explode it unload it reload it unload again and pull another left hand fifty shots to win i can't lose its impossible plus i got a chopper fifty shots about to droppin' you i be 'bout strings hittin' the beef gigga head then leave the set, leave a beef gigga wet jet off the scene with the uptown fighter red dot sighters all week night flighters i'm a get ya', when ya' least expect it cock the glock jacket a vest can't protect it boy, is ya' ready i'll leave yo' set wetted slugs flyin' high, got yo' body real heavy you can't move, ya' got buff now your stuck left Wayne on the set, and yo' boys to pick you up out cold head swoll eyes closed i know for sure you ain't gon' test me no more yo' block tore yo' family in black clothes you got blowed and in ya chest is many holes this goes for Lataranza Elmo i show how uptown niggas roll ya' big boy, me and my niggas did it to ya automatic, black chopper trigger pullin' that's how we be loadin' clips then release eight deep in the three-hundred E leather seats and in the trunk artillery up the streets where i started sure ain't for me the B.G. that's the name I go by test me you die S Kangol why hide out at the club, slide out ride out yo' block 'bout to die out move ya' people i'm burnin' down the whole streets the night creepers 'bout to heat our enemies lights off masks on, creep silense lights gone we done left yo' block wired retaliate wait no your not boy 'cause i'm a Hot Boy nine milli cock boy chopper gunnin' hoes scared of slugs, runnin' start movin', me and Juve (Juvenile) e be comin' (Juvenile) we left yo' brain sick up with a chopper (A.K. 47) splittin' the bricks a young black crucifix up in the dirt i be knockin' dicks smooth and beretically, my pockets rocket to six figures and polverizin' niggas pullin' A.K.'s and two triggers my potn's stand on the side of me they only come out at night them deamons got me on a flight duck tapin' and takin' life or even worse it could be three O'clock, on a Sunday by church yo' brains might have to burst you shouldn't have fucked with me first since them bullets was cappin' adam's apples i'm scoutin' got richer penintentiary ward for the national guard to come get 'em very seldom do you see me, when you do what do you do bust back, better be a head shot if not it's you i'm comin' around the corner 'bout to pulla meatball on ya' purses like a coat and them houses in calico me and Lil Turk heard of a merger on a murder fifty G's (grand) on his head what ht fuck did you said fifty G's (grands) for sure that nigga live next door call the man let the sucker plan look, i fuck with this rap shit, but i ask 'em don't say no more a Hot Boy representin' this bitch like black and Moe (Turk) I start to poppin' niggas start to droppin' i'm havin' fatal thoughts,i think i'm fuckin' shell shockin' niggas bangin' four-five ringin' in my ear, i'm not scared 'cause i'm a solja and solja's have no fuckin' fear in my sleep at night i'm seeing war fights wakin' up thinkin' that a nigga took my fuckin' life unnecessary shit mind clickin' like a light switch to pick you up on any nigga or any bitch don't give a fuck steady bangin' and dodgin' camoulflagin' with the mack alive and don't have time for these dog hoes goin' through a stage with that chop (Chopper) and that four-four (Juvenile) What's this shit i hear 'bout you boys potna's in crime if that's true i'll punish you bitches for the last time now you gon' shine? let me put somethin' on ya' mind lil' cowards takin' hits and protecting shit it's a for sure thang i'm a brang or i'm a wet ya best to be 'bout yo' business, if not, God bless ya look, what makes you think that two-two-six wasn't strong that's when we do ya wrong they both come and they gone off-toppers i'm a get with you and ya' potna's (patners) T.C., L.D., and Williard street with choppers drama hittin' a niggas cash we play it right though i'm comin' to get a niggas ass like i'm them white folks look, better be 'bout it if not better be rowdy it's all in yo' mind, ha? you gon' shine, ha? i doubt it
Written by: GRAY, TERIUS / THOMAS, BYRON O.
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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