I'm Ridin'

And I'm ridin' wit a body on the shotty

Stretch a nigga out like Pilates

Catch a nigga outside his hidey

Snatch all the honey from your

Honeycomb, now the bees keep flyin' by me

I'm on that piff, that potty

That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from the 90's

Shiny P-90 in the lining

I'm dining, don't time me mu'fucka

I'm a, young ass piranha

Don't get caught in that water cause I'm waitin' for a drowner

And on the corner I got packs on the counter

Before ya bitch leave I make Young Marl count 'em

Tryin' to get a dollar i could turn into a thousand

I'm so determined its a economic problem, drama

That's why I carry the llama

Ready at any given day to bury my honor

Love weed so much i tried to marry Juana

So pass the pastrami and asparagus mama, I'm lunchin'

Cause in my area

If you got bread you better break it or we sharin' ya

I got his ankles, and his stereo

Cause i could get a cool buck fifty

For that and the barrio, that's Hollygrove

It's Hollygrove til I adios

I gotta go, gotta go, got more bags to dope, yeah

Hot Boy Wayne

Since the beginning I've been in and out of some shit

Thinnin' out the thick

Living out the script, for the role that was chosen

But I don't want an award, I'm tryin' to afford

Back to the road in a Honda Accord

The whole right side slam down with that raw

A city supply the city get high, like

If I was Clear I woulda touched Claudette

I'm so fresh, like sex in the sheets

But I'm from the dirty dirty, like sex on the beach

The checks on my Nikes they match my carneesh

The button up shirt match my button seats

The AK-47 match my fuckin' heat

Watch your fuckin' feet cause I'm hot in the streets

A quarter thing is how i got in the streets

I had money ever since that week, young Weezy!

17 gangsta, Hollygrove soldier

Got a lil money, got a lot more colder

My top don't roll up, it fold up

My money don't fold up, it build up

You niggas ain't fly, get your gear up

Copped my bitch the Marc Jacob boots, and the ear muffs

Got her lookin' like Kamora or somethin

Brought Kamora to the South now Kamora stuntin'

Yeah we big business pimpin', chyea

Walkin' wit a limp, talkin' with a slur

Barkin' at ya' bitch, bet her pussycat purr

She all on mine, she ain't lookin' at yours

And if a man trip he get the blit bla blat blurr

Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first, chyea... chyea

Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first! Chyea!

And I'm ridin' wit a body on the shotty

Stretch a nigga out like Pilates

Catch a nigga outside his hidey

Snatch all the honey from your

Honeycomb, now the bees keep flyin' by me

I'm on that piff, that potty

That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from the 90's

Shiny P-90 in the lining

I'm dining, don't time me mu'fucka

I'm a, young ass piranha

Don't get caught in that water cause I'm waitin' for a drowner

And on the corner I got packs on the counter

Before ya bitch leave I make Young Mob count 'em

Tryin' to get a dollar i could turn into a thousand

I'm so determined its a economic problem, drama

That's why I carry the llama

Ready at any given day to bury my honor

Love weed so much i tried to marry Juana

So pass the pastrami and asparagus mama, I'm lunchin'

Cause in my area

If you got bread you better break it or we sharin' ya

I got his ankles, and his stereo

Cause i could get a cool buck fifty

For that and the barrio, that's Hollygrove

It's Hollygrove til I adios

I gotta go, gotta go, got more bags to dope, yeah

Hot Boy Wayne

Since the beginning I've been in and out of some shit

Thinnin' out the thick

Living out the script, for the role that was chosen

But I don't want an award, I'm tryin' to afford

Back to the road in a Honda Accord

The whole right side slam down with that raw

A city supply the city get high, like

If I was Clear I woulda touched Claudette

I'm so fresh, like sex in the sheets

But I'm from the dirty dirty, like sex on the beach

The checks on my Nikes they match my carneesh

The button up shirt match my button seats

The AK-47 match my fuckin' heat

Watch your fuckin' feet cause I'm hot in the streets

A quarter thing is how i got in the streets

I had money ever since that week, young Weezy!

17 gangsta, Hollygrove soldier

Got a lil money, got a lot more colder

My top don't roll up, it fold up

My money don't fold up, it build up

You niggas ain't fly, get your gear up

Copped my bitch the Marc Jacob boots, and the ear muffs

Got her lookin' like Kamora or somethin

Brought Kamora to the South now Kamora stuntin'

Yeah we big business pimpin', chyea

Walkin' wit a limp, talkin' with a slur

Barkin' at ya' bitch, bet her pussycat purr

She all on mine, she ain't lookin' at yours

And if a man trip he get the blit bla blat blurr

Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first, chyea... chyea

Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first! Chyea!