| That’s right ese, guess who’s back,
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| Tryin ride on these fools, Mr. Criminal,
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| Along with the homie along little cuete, that’s right,
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| My definition of a rida,
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| Were the motherfuckas that squize the blast,
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| Quick to match,
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| No questions ask,
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| Get the cash and get it fast,
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| My definition of a rida,
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| In the middle of the frontline ready to battle,
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| Head up, with my chest out holding my ammo,
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| Put valas in your ass, leave you facin the gravel, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha
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| That’s the lil cuete coming fully automatic,
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| Let em have it, when I pull the trigger back,
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| Any of ya’ll heard that I’m sick when I rap,
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| Plus I got the sack and the strap on my lap,
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| You don’t wanna be in the way when I spit one crazy mothafucka from that
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| norwalk click,
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| Light it up and take a hit,
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| Little cuete, criminal, home boy that’s sick,
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| We startin a mix, startin a mix, little cuete and Mr. crime,
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| From the sick south east to the wicked west side,
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| Bout to rough out the top, with a strap on the side,
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| Then lay on the ground and I’m taking they life,
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| Quick to hit you up when we’re eager to bust,
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| Grap the strap, cock it back, hold the trigga then duck,
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| We some g’z we some ridaz we ain’t rollin with punks,
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| Until you give us a definition you ain’t rollin with,
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| Ain’t no way that these fools they can stop us I’m hustln, deadly collectin my
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| cheese,
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| Fools, we’re thinkn, we catchin em slippin, I’m commin and bustin unloadin my
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| clip,
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| Fools, we talkn aloud, my homie wisom respect,
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| One weak diss to the homies got you stuck in the neck,
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| Got AK’s, 22's, even the tech’s,
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| Got the homie little cuete got em rollin with checks,
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| Any where you want it, I can make you have a 357 automatic,
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| Let em have it, when I got it in my soul,
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| Pull the trigga bang, and let a missle go,
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| I hit with a pistol one shot in my zone,
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| Though ay ando, still equip my semi atomatic,
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| Takin levas up the planet,
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| Make em runnin for the mountains,
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| Lil cuete is like an addict,
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| When I grab I won’t panic,
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| Plus I got your bitch on my cock when I plan it,
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| Got a lot of hatas wanna see me shot in the head,
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| Oppurtunities pass, they ain’t poppin no lead,
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| Fools talk to the cops kinda seem to confess,
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| Wanna see me in cuffs, and then to droppin dead,
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| Los Angeles county’s most wanted part two,
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| Cuete and you know who,
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| To the homies on the main lines,
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| Throwin up the gang signs,
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| Creased up, sportin that blue, foo
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| So, if you wanna go to war I’m ready for that mission,
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| Killin competition,
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| Packin heavy ammunition,
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| I put em in a body bag and send em on his way,
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| I always have a bullet if you wanna come and play,
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| You never thought I’de be the one to have it on lock,
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| So, here I’m gonna tell you that I’m never gonna stop,
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| And I know I’m gonna kill em when the album drop,
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| I ain’t even tryin and I made it to the top, |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song My Defenition of a Rider , by - Mr. Criminal. Song from the album Stay On the Streets, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп