Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Ride, artist - Nappy Roots. Album song Watermelon, Chicken & Gritz, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.02.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Atlantic
Song language: English
My Ride |
feelin easy like its sunday morning steak and eggs |
hey livin off some big rims lookin like some blades |
play her like a pimp type a nigga aint me with the tint the 35 percent so ya cant see |
fish scales shotgun pass the L to big V flip flop candy lookin so wet it drip drop (shiiiine) |
from the tip top chrome double duce |
make a bitch stop jaw drop ballin off this hip hop |
on a budget back and forth from kentucky |
we them type of niggas that crack corn in a bucket |
a hundred and ninety spoke god damn |
look but dont touch it we commin down I-65 |
nappy and company (vertical grills) on the cadilac we so real |
skinny deville return like a bat out of hell |
hell dont ya think nappy roots comin as well |
Big V, B. Stille, Prophet, Clutch, and Fish Scales yeaahh |
My ride be sittin on dem hundred spokes (hundred spokes) |
my candy paint straight from the honeycomb (honeycomb) |
wood grain interior leather and chrome (leather and chrome) |
everybody ride out its on its on (its on its on) |
(FISH SCALES) |
ay yo thats my cab jumped out leavin a tab |
hold on man we’ll discuss that later |
B. jumped out like (fuck that hater) |
fell in the aspen rotten like martin |
two white dudes one looked like matt harprin |
later on he’s eatin and ball in cleavland |
and I jumped out like fuck your season |
van dam woke up in the grand am real hot no air for the car jam |
twenty inches ride both on probes |
look nice chevrolet on pipes |
keep chevy tint that twinkle so bright |
B.O.B im’a ball on budget |
pumped out two thou on the 89 cutlass (biiitch) |
nah you cant ride im selfish |
aint too many ho’s wanna touch this velvet |
(B. STILLE.) |
hop in with me we bout to leave |
you gotta pop it I drope a dollar in ya pocket |
gas up the crotch rocket pass up the cops blocked it |
(hey B. Stille can I role with you and Prophet) |
extra clean you cant tell me nean |
drop the top showin off for the summa |
the cadilac stretch on dem bow legged stillets |
where the candy paint sets like a wet cigarette |
bubble coat primers chrome spiders inside us big enough for my team and a couple of trainers |
but it hold no minors thats major |
wood grain and ya get deep beaters big features |
feel boom from the beats in my big speakers |
its on in my seats and my signature |
dont throw dirt on my name no shirt as I lean |
out the window pane you hear the country boy sang |