| This ghetto crew we roll around in a hoop
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| Hustle for loot, hundred dollar sneakers and boots
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| Hit the streets with my crew, and shootin' heat off the roof
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| It was just me and a few, don’t let that reefer canoe
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| Bon Appetit, let’s eat, read it and weep
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| Too many indians wanna be the chief
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| Tuck the semi, kiss my mom on the cheek
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| Don’t be out showin' your teeth
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| Niggas’ll think shit is sweet
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| So keep it low and discreet
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| Especially if you holdin' dough niggas’ll open your meat
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| It’s deep, I learned this shit from an OG on the street
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| Don’t be a fool when you speak, you either wolf or you sheep
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| I just spit truth on a beat, and keep a scoop on a freak
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| Absolute fire you deal wit', set fire to the entire building
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| Inspire children, rob sapphire and chill when
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| But till then just admire the realness
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| All these guns
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| Take em uptown, ridin' around (8x)
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| Check it
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| You know the drill, money over bitches still
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| Load the steel and go in for the kill
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| All the way from Sugar Hill to Brazil
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| Back to the 'ville, stack bills, smack niggas all in they grill
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| But chill, we on the strip, new whip (new whip!)
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| Seen us cruisin' up 125th (two fifth!)
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| Who could resist the wrist isn’t it brisk?
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| G slippery like fish, in my FILA kicks
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| And to me you like Leon Spinks
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| Nigga we shine like neon, bitch
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| Peons get peed on quick
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| Like a street harlet at the bar gettin' me all stiff
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| We could call shot, free off this
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| No key just squeeze off fifths
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| Strike a cord like a guitar lick
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| Sit and relax to this beat for a sec
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| Then I’m out like a green Corvette
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| If we can’t make dough we take dough (baby it’s mossberg)
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| And ain’t a damn thing change ho
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| I stay on the down low
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| Niggas be frontin' like they rugged but they throwin' in the towel though
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| Niggas I shot some, I always kept a shotgun
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| In the trunk of the Datsun, you don’t want your top spun
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| I get busy, with the semi just gimme
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| When the cops come, shimmy up the block for Phillies
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| We got the city on lock really, I’m hot as a pot of chili
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| Papa Willy, Mom feel me
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| The Mac milly rock his ass silly
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| Get back to me, cash money keep a bag plenty
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| Absolute fire you deal wit', set fire to the entire building
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| Inspire children, drop a sapphire and chill when
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| But until then just admire the realness
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| We gonna take 'em uptown
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| Ridin' around
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| Got some bitches in the backseat wit' pipes in their mouth
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| Trunk full of hashish we supplyin' the town
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| We gonna take 'em uptown
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| And dump 'em in the Hudson River
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| What, what we dump 'em in the Hudson River
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| Nigga, yeah
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| We dump 'em in the Hudson River
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| Right after I plug a nigga |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ridin Around , by - Roc Marciano. Song from the album Marcberg, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп