What You Ride For?

Whomp! Whomp!

What you ride for? What you die for? Bounce!

I got some bitches that'll ride for me, die for me (Whomp!)

What you ride for? What you die for? Bounce!

I got some bitches that'll ride for me, die for me (Whomp!Whomp!)

Cornbread by the ki, the language when you call on a G

Prices cut (?) when you ballin' on me

Sleepy I'll fuck all over your Jones, holla at my cousin forzones

He don't communicate with Fiend unless you're buildin' a home

Hustler kill on his momma, before he short me

Shoot him in his heart then go take it to heart, see gon' mobme(?)

Ghetto red hot, seventeen ward block

Yes I issue more shit for you to cop, then store it by the docks

Hide the fun if you can't afford cops

So ain't no tellin where your boy rots

I employ Rotts that be wildin off the rocks

Speak in fives-like gimme what you got

And still pop a nigga ass from the rooftop

And still catch the Kiss performance later with the L.O.X.

We real raw-my dog collar signin' with the are and are

Fuck with me you blow up with your car, (?)

How come I don't stop in this

You want to ride get in and get gone, gotta get my thug on

You want to war? Okay...alright...bring it on

Touch me, you ashes (boy) I'ma leave you gaseous (uh-huh)

I'm a ghetto bastard if I want it let me have it (woo!)

You play the game raw, I make a fuckin' mess (Blaow!)

You play thug in the streets I'm wavin at your chest (nigga)

You heard about me boy, you don't want no drama

I make it hard for you to breathe in the streets

While finessin your baby momma-get your mind right shawty

While you poppin that X, I'ma pop yo chest

And leave you dead in the party like soakin wet

That's what happens when you flex

In the A-T-L shawty don't be caught in the hype

I make two phone calls from a pay phone and there go your life

Yeah

I, lock shit like a, big pimp nigga

Eight mackin' with no, fake shit nigga

Coast to coast tossin' hoes with my clique nigga

Stick my clip in, and do a hit for Kiss nigga

Dirty money-the only way for this nigga

Hustle after hustle-tryin' to be a rich nigga

If I get caught up, I'll never be a snitch nigga

We pimpin hard charge it all to a bitch nigga

Under my denim is a big fo-fifth nigga

Fuckin with me is like, jumpin off a cliff nigga

And I don't practice I was born with this gift nigga

Pure pimpin' from my brain to my lips nigga

Sticky green takes my mind on a trip nigga

In A-T-L I get my Gucci down at Phipps nigga

We call 'em slabs in New York they call 'em whips nigga

One hundred baby - Eightball gotta dip nigga

Uh, uh, uh-uh-uh

Uh, uh - yo when I'm loadin the clips, niggaz I hate, face be on 'em

That's why I stopped coppin' the guns with safeties on 'em

When I touch down, call me up, I'm on the porch

With the mac, servin niggaz "Eightballs" and up

You want to know why niggaz is broke, because they hate money

The rims that I'm sittin on is in they late twenties

Bitches want to see me holla at 'em, throw a dollar at 'em and

If they hustle throw some hard or some powder at 'em

This is for my South niggaz

Gold and platinum ice in they mouth niggaz

Let's ride out niggaz

Everybody gon' follow the bitches

Until they realize, bullets gon' follow the stitches

On the other hand, shit is real low, it's a fact that

Nine out of ten niggaz mouths get 'em killed though

What you ride for? What you die for?

'Cause I got some niggaz and some bitches that's my word that I kill for