| What you ride for? |
| What you die for? |
| BOUNCE!
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| I got some bitches that’ll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP!)
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| What you ride for? |
| What you die for? |
| BOUNCE!
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| I got some bitches that’ll ride for me, die for me (WHOMP! WHOMP!)
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| Cornbread by the ki, the language when you call on a G
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| Prices cut (?) when you ballin on me
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| Sleepy I’ll fuck all over your jones, holla at my cousin for zones
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| He don’t communicate with Fiend unless you’re buildin a home
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| Hustler kill on his momma, before he short me
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| Shoot him in his heart then go take it to heart, see gon' mob me (?)
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| Ghetto red hot, seventeen ward block
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| Yes I issue more shit for you to cop, then store it by the docks
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| Hide the fun if you can’t afford cops
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| So ain’t no tellin where your boy rots
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| I employ Rotts that be wildin off the rocks
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| Speak in fives — like gimme what you got
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| And still pop a nigga ass from the rooftop
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| And still catch the 'Kiss performance later with The L.O.X
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| We real raw — my dog collar signin with the R and R
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| Fuck with me you blow up with your car, light a 'gar
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| How come I don’t stop in this
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| You wanna ride get in and get gone, gotta get my thug on
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| You wanna war? |
| Okay. |
| alright. |
| bring it on
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| Touch me, you ashes (boy) I’mma leave you gaseous (uh-huh)
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| I’m a ghetto bastard if I want it let me have it (woo!)
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| You play the game raw, I make a fuckin mess (BLAOW!)
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| You play thug in the streets I’m wavin at your chest (nigga)
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| You heard about me boy, you don’t want no drama
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| I make it hard for you to breathe in the streets
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| Walkin next to your baby your baby momma — get your mind right shawty
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| While you poppin that X, I’mma pop yo' chest
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| And leave you dead in the party like soakin wet
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| That’s what happens when you flex
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| In the A-T-L shawty don’t be caught in the hype
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| I make two phone calls from a pay phone and there go your life
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| Yeah
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| I, lock shit like a, big pimp nigga
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| Eight mackin with no, fake shit nigga
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| Coast to coast tossin hoes with my clique nigga
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| Stick my clip in, and do a hit for 'Kiss nigga
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| Dirty money — the only way for this nigga
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| Hustle after hustle — tryin to be a rich nigga
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| If I get caught up, I’ll never be a snitch nigga
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| We pimpin hard charge it all to a bitch nigga
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| Under my denim is a big fo'-fifth nigga
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| Fuckin with me is like, jumpin off a cliff nigga
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| And I don’t practice I was born with this gift nigga
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| Pure pimpin from my brain to my lips nigga
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| Sticky green takes my mind on a trip nigga
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| In A-T-L I get my Gucci down at Phipps nigga
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| We call 'em slabs in New York they call 'em whips nigga
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| One hundred baby — 8Ball gotta dip nigga
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| Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh
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| Uh, uh — yo when I’m loadin the clips, niggas I hate, face be on 'em
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| That’s why I stopped coppin the guns with safeties on 'em
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| When I touch down, call me up, I’m on the porch
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| With the mac, servin niggas 8Balls and up
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| You wanna know why niggas is broke, because they hate money
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| The rims that I’m sittin on is in they late twenties
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| Bitches wanna see me holla at 'em, throw a dollar at 'em and
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| If they hustle throw some hard or some powder at 'em
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| This is for my South niggas
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| Gold and platinum ice in they mouth niggas
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| LET’S RIDE OUT NIGGAZ
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| Everybody gon' follow the bitches
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| Until they realize, bullets gon' follow the stitches
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| On the other hand, shit is real low, it’s a fact that
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| Nine out of ten niggas mouths get 'em killed though
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| What you ride for? |
| What you die for?
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| Cause I got some niggas and some bitches that’s my word that I kill for |