Lyrics Ride on our Enemies (S.L.A.B.ed) - Trae Tha Truth

Ride on our Enemies (S.L.A.B.ed) - Trae Tha Truth
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ride on our Enemies (S.L.A.B.ed), artist - Trae Tha Truth. Album song Slow, Loud and Bangin', Vol. 4, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.01.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Grand hustle, Trae Tha Truth
Song language: English

Ride on our Enemies (S.L.A.B.ed)

Taking over this shit nigga
The war has now begun
Jump in front of the gun if you wanna
You gon be a motherfucking goner
Watch out for this blue and gray
Cause we gon make way
I put this on the West nigga
S.L.A.B.
gon be on top of this shit here
I know you niggas in the game, finna feel me
I’m never gon shut up, until a nigga kill me
And I feel like I’m headed, to the Penitentiary
Cause this is the part, when we ride on our enemies
I spit slow, so these snitch niggas can know who I be
Z-Ro the Crooked, I’ve infected more people than H.I.V
Say hello and say la-vi with it, it don’t matter to me
My motherfucking family, S-L-A-B in back of me
Tragedies often is prevented, but when the windows be this tinted
It’ll be a drive by, chastising niggas spirits as I slide by
Don’t ever in your life, try to challenge my mind’s eye
Fuck around and make me, make these motherfuckers die
So listen to the sound of Fraiser, releasing his anger
Listen to the sound of Douglas, with one in the chamber
Listen to the sound of me, spilling my hate with this Mack
And I can’t stop, until I see my nigga Joseph with stacks
Pants sagging, cause I got my pistol in my pocket
And it ain’t nothing to cock it, throw a search party for your wig and rock it
Head busting, Z-Ro standing over your bed dumping
Be gone before the FED’s running, real life head humming
You ever see a guerilla, with his hands quicker
Cause Trae been clicking on fake niggas, just like that bitch nigga
We realer, we them niggas that be Maabing on bitches
Cause all that pistol play capping, finna to get you put up with stitches
I heard that controversy sells, but down South it’ll get you hurt
And if you in it get fucked over, I’m about to raise up your skirt
It ain’t no need to take it back, not when they slug’s been shot
I’m fresh off the block I’m hot, and you about to get dropped
I’m feeling like Pac, so now I gotta ride on you cats
And all of my enemies better move, before they get put on they back
A soldier bout to attack, if you want me let’s get it cracking
That’s going for any one of you niggas, thinking we rapping
On down to friends and foes, you niggas gotta go
Then again I ain’t got no friends, cause most of 'em turned to hoes
And to the niggas, that love to put a slug under they breath
I’ma lean on a nigga, and bring that bitch out of they chest
I’m a soldier, 4−5 strapped in the holster
Shells popping out, like a motherfucking toaster
Archie Lee the hood legend, I rep’s my block
I hit your spot, pull out connect my knots
I got a gun fetish nigga, with techs and Glocks
So many infrared beams, it’s like connect the dots
I wish you would, try some hoe shit in the hood
Be the nigga with a bat, till I split the wood
Now they say Hitman, is darraigned in his mind
I’m just a hard head nigga, throwing up gang signs
Back in the days man, I use to slang dimes
Now I floss fo' dot, sixes with mine
And I never turn my back, on my niggas
Hard heads till I die, representing mob figgas
Mafia Joe Boy, my nigga Dee-Da-Wee
Agg and C, can’t forget Knock and QB holla
I’m throwed in the mind, and I’m whacking 'em off
Keep my pistol cocked by my side, ready to fire it off
Dropping bombs on you son of a bitches, like my name Sadaam
Motherfucker fin know when I make it rain, look bitch it pours
When you feel that you ready, bring it steady and heavy
Motherfuckers gon have to kill me, before I’m gon let 'em
Take me out for my money, bitch you trying my patience
Trying to violate me, my nine’ll start penetrating faces
Penitentiary chances, looking over my shoulder
In the kitchen burning down bricks, hot over the stover
Since I’m constantly rising, how in the fuck can I fall
Motherfuckers playing with fire, I’m burning 'em all
I’m going get ammunition, for niggas with competition
So pay attention and listen, I’m busting at Expeditions
Wishing for any hater-ation, my beam is what you facing
Bust with no hesitation, at niggas that’s imitation
Ain’t no procrastination, I’m quick to bust heads
Lil B is leaving these tweety bird, niggas for dead
Bust at my enemies, these niggas not kin to me
Not even a friend to me, using my clip until it’s empty
Cause I’m a gangsta, you wanksta fuck around and shank you
I think you better move around, 'fore I treat you like a child and spank you
Drop you pop you, with nothing but automatics of weapons
When I start to let loose, boys be praying for protection
Get 'em up get 'em up, early in the morning
Crack of dawn and, I drunk a eight and I ain’t yawning
Nigga be thinking they gon catch me sleeping, but they not
So I keep a couple of Glocks, these boys need to stop
Giving niggas head shots, and rocking they body
And once you make us mad, it ain’t no stopping nobody
Everybody got shotty, Guerilla Maab the mob nigga some hard head niggas
They gon kill us or feel us, so this how C do it
(what) Uh-huh, fuck 97−9
They ain’t gotta play my shit one time, and I’ma shine
We started off underground, we’ll take it back underground
And take everything over, we got 'em loving our sound
I’m with that Lil C, from the C-R's Hogg
C ease up, niggas is all on our nuts
Bandanas in the wrong pocket, so I’m all in they guts
With a shank or a knife, cause I don’t need a gun
I tear a nigga’s ass up, so I don’t need to run
Five deuce out of the C-side, I’ll show you how a G ride
You can’t stand this jeep ride, cause you ain’t even see live
Falsified nigga, with a flag and some Chucks
I grab the pistol grip pump, make it dump when I bust
I hopped it and pancaked it, and hopped out mean mugging
Walking up close, I hope you peeping this beam cuzin
I blew his head in his lap, thanks to the Mack
That I got from the Lac, put it to his head and opened it back
Checking his pockets and hope for a stack, and hope to get back
To the Lac and hope to get back down the streets, I’m back to the shack

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Artist lyrics: Trae Tha Truth