Lyrics:
rolling
Slow motion to the ocean ride down to Texas
En garde, we be gulf coasting
Let me see that trunk shape
Yeah, I'm a lowrider
Drop down let me see you
life got a fucking price
Driven by dollars not wrong nor right
Outta sight outta mind
Zero sources you can cite
Feel no fear like I play metal gear
2
Yeah yeah
Church
Bitch I came up from this shit
Shotgun layin' right by the screen door
(yeah) alarm buzzin' on my house
Then my old lady know she
ride
Tryin to get a show here trying to get a show there
Mothafuckas trippin but a nigga didn't care
Bumpin my shit everywhere I went
Gettin my money
Look, let’s put some money up
You can’t make mine stop i’m hot nigga
Like a pistol off the dime block
Before you change lanes
You should check your
options
Get high, play ball, write raps, or pistol poppin'
Cops watching us one by one leaving us boxed in
Locked in, ain't none of us got a Johnny Cochran
It all started with the rapping
My pencil done caused a reaction
Hiding the pistol right under my mattress
Your presence becoming my absence
Im
pistols and
They stick you with them knives
Whacha sniffin' crystal while you
Twitchin' with yo eye
Niggas ride stitches for they eye
If you snitch you get
done lost all my emotions to make a peace treaty or treason so fuck ALLAT shit.
Angels watching in the sky, this world I'm surrounded by demons
Stay
shoot like a starter
Have my little 4 follow you like a stalker
We don't do drive-bys no more
Just do Walk Upz
I found my drip, yeah I found my water
She
twenty two what you betting
Just adjust your settings
Cuz dub getting lost in mode
Remember needing government assistance
But hit the top by myself
I ain't
to ride
Hit tha saloon for the moonshine
Down for whateva
Lets ride (lets ride)
These directions say we to Tucson, Arizona
When we arrive
Ill cop
Here's a record for you homie, 'cause I know you got caught
One love, East Side, that's how we do ride
D.P.G.C. we do or die
Oh yes we're fresh to death,
the do'
Told the bitch get inside (talking)
Let's ride ha ha, where we rolling
Take it off take it off, say nothing
One lil' two lil' three, little hoes
Woah woah, oh
Woah woah, oh
Yeah
Ah
Yah yah yah
Ride around with a few tings I don't know them
Pass that blunt let me show you how to roll it
Let me get a chop at this lumber niggas
From the down underground are hangin' around the A-Town
Lookin' for a come up, workin' from 9 to 5
Just
duct tape
Me, I just make sure they stomp like crush grapes
I make the hardest shed a tear
Give 'em a gun, if I had two right here
Two over there,
your eyes to see
If you're with me, buckle up and let me guide you to relief (To relief)
Chillax, enjoy the ride and release
And just maybe by the end
Nigga why you actin' like a ho?
Know that I'ma ride for ya, either way it go
Tell me girl why you be stressin me for time
When you tell me you
shit, there's no gimmiks,
Suave House, an the 504 Boyz courtesy of No Limit, hit em up.
Verse 2-(Buk)
Get down, feel the ground, shake 'em up,
Looking at
All this rappers Iv been eating
Even if I was 2 pac by now I would have pot belly
I’m a shot (short) caller
It’s like I’m on the phone with
Mr rogers huh
Fuck em up this time around homie
Hard on these motherfucking tracks
Let's get on em huh
Sitting on white bricks, wrapped in duct tape
we RIDE
And if I die by a slug
The death of a true thug
Tell me will my niggas mourn me?
The death of a true thug
And still, we try to change
You the chick I with yo
And I don't like to kiss
But Everytime we kiss, I can't let your lips go
I love you like my Pistol
With you I stay safe, so
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