AWA

Ride Til' We Die

Track byC-Bo

0
0
  • 1997.11.30
  • 4:31
AWAで聴く

歌詞

(feat. 151, Mob Figgas) And we be blastin, smashin for the loot I, empty my strap and then I dash to my Coupe Ain't no half-steppin, it's West Coast til I die Keepin the bundle and never fumble my 4-5 With only one life to live, nigga we're still ridin We attack and murder and watch the scrilla multiply Fuck the funkity-five, big business and expeditions If I die when I ride, don't leave shit to them bitches I raise my right hand with a Tek and my left I swear I'll ride Til my death or touch collide, til my judgment, til I rest I'll be that gun smooth assassin, run with trues for blastin Snatchin up money bags in organised crime fashion Mafioso's mashin, the homicides is askin: "Who did thew blastin? Was is it the Mob Figgas mashin?" Ridin with no maskets, jobs can't be soppy Grippin the bail with the doves to bust you with my tongue Now I'm a savage young nigga witta chopper Motivated by Mob-type tactics, I'll blow your block up ???? sip to Cosby, out the game everytime Me and the Mob Figgas'll do the dirt and choke the 9's straight Savage's up on the crime, but a cross and dwelling lavishly Fuck some animosity but I might just cause a casualty Cos Boo the Hustler and Bo-Loc'll show ya, smell the aroma We gon' ride til we die, ain't no glory in lettin it slide [Chorus:] For all you punks that never heard of these And all you buster motherfuckers that wanna murder, these niggas We ridin til we die Ain't lettin shit slide, dumpin 4-5's, ridin til we die [repeat] ???? ???? California, I'm best ta warn ya you'll end up like Freddy Fuckin with my 'fetti, we mobbin three-deep in Chevy AP-9, Bo and I rider, we pull licks On a bitch, haven't you heard, we gets perved and hit the strip Pitch black tint, ain't takin no mo' shit Gotta get these niggas with my chop and hit the block and suit their knots And leave their whole block chalked up, got closed off of 4-54's They hit the block and then I got gone I'm never gang-related but dedicated to my niggas My niggas be killers, drug-dealers and ho killers Mackers in jackets, po' pimps, 9 packers Got these ballers in *?scallers?*, livin lawless, my niggas' flawless Niggas with knowledge represent in grounds of college White Acura coupes, pimpin hoes and stackin loot How much scrilla can I hustle up? Foldin my figures Dottin my decimals with commas behind my O's, so.... You see gangs never work out the way I planned Cos I hustle all night, black eyes from gang fights A mad nigga's drama and addicted to street life I sold this paradise, sippin this game and pay the price I watch the sun glisten off this ice, caught you slippin Uzi, Mac and a jacker, young thief in the night Dangerous minds still lookin for a sign to reclude As to what the fuck I'm pissed to do If this rap game don't ??? for me, life might as well stop for me Give in to failin from 2-11's so niggas call me *?Jagger?* Ridin til I die on you bastards [Chorus] We ridin practice on swell, pushin luxury with no els Floss je-wels, Professional Baller, all about the dollars And when you holler, we hit like pits, attackin collars Ridin with the 4-5, I'm shady and connivin Choose dyin before I be a punk to this shit Dump when you funk when you with the clip cos if you slide, then you slip Hollow tips rip chests, til confetti turn branch to spaghetti Smash off like Andretti, are you ready? It ain't no runnin in a war, we're hardcore Steadily toe-taggin bodies, yeah, we're dyin some mo' No respect to dump Tek's, smashin in Apollo Supersports Cashin em out dollar stretch from Cali to New York On a mission from mail, court and million dollar bails Diamond je-wels, pushin 500 SL's I'm just a born killer, cap peeler for my scrilla Forever ride, nigga, until I get a hundred milla's I'm ready to ride so slide, so need the pistol Launch em like missiles as they shatter like crystals I heard Bo whistle, it's time to move out This mo' clear, we disappear and punch the big shootouts Another slaughter, you're block was blown clear out the water I land in your soldiers like dickin your daughter Don't bother beggin me for no forgiveness I'm in this to win this and takin care of business A witness to these murderous conspiracies Will be found, dead to the ground and chopped with Glocks on both their Knees So please don't sweat the technique, it's the way I was trained Murder men dictatin minds like Hitler dumpin Hussein I bring the pain, til I will remain the top ace Make you kiss my pinky ring then smack him dead in his face Cos I'm a RIDEAH......(and we'll just slide up and dump)

このページをシェア

C-Boの人気曲

C-Bo
の他の曲も聴いてみよう
AWAで他の曲を聴く
はじめての方限定
1か月無料トライアル実施中!
登録なしですぐに聴ける
アプリでもっと快適に音楽を楽しもう
ダウンロード
フル再生
時間制限なし