Ride Til` We Die lyrics

Artist  : C-bo 
Song : Ride Til` We Die



 Send "Ride Til` We Die" Ringtone to your Cell 

 featuring  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
f**k the funkity-five, big business and
expeditions
If I die when I ride, don't leave sh*t to them
bit*hes

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
f**k 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 motherf**kers that wanna
murder, these niggas
We ridin til we die
Ain't lettin sh*t slide, dumpin 4-5's, ridin til
we die
*repeat*

???? ???? California, I'm best ta warn ya you'll
end up like Freddy
f**kin with my 'fetti, we mobbin three-deep in
Chevy
AP-9, Bo and I rider, we pull licks
on a bit*h, 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 f**k 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)