Ride lyrics

Artist  : Foxy Brown 
Song : Ride



 Send "Ride" Ringtone to your Cell 

 [intro]
Let’s get it hype, nigga
Let’s get it crump
Yeah, yeah, yeah

[eightball]
Pass me them swisher sweets, let’s get it
crump
If a nigga disrespect me i’mma prove my sh*t
and dump
Blast ryhmes like I pump, turn your belly to
jelly
Veteran mc, I don’t think you rookies is ready
Three hundred and fifty pounds of pressure to
deal wit
I run with suave, always packin’ something to
kill with
Feel this bit*h, when I get rich i’mma still
hustle
Go down in history, paper taller then bill
russel
Kilo flows, I got ’em hid in the basement
Choppin boys up, on some puttin’ it in they
face shit
Eight ball, f-a-t m-a-c-k, known for layin’ it
down
And doin’ sh*t the playa way
Callabo’s of the dough ain’t no secret
Space-age pimpin’ means I don’t do free shit
Time waits for no one, it ain’t gon’ wait for
me
Yours truly, signed eightball and mjg

[mjg]
1 -	all my hard core niggas, what you want to do?

My real thug-ass niggas, what you want to do? 
All my money making bit*hes if you ride with me
I’mma pimp ’till I die and i’mma ride for
free

Now where them real bit*hes at
Where them real bit*hes at
Where they at, where they at, where they at, huh?


And where my buck niggas at
Where my buck niggas at
Where they at, where they at, where they at, come
on

[foxy brown]
I ain’t new to this
Damn nice bit*h that’s true to this
Money ain’t never been a thing to me
Always stack my dough, holla back (uh)
Ass fat, thighs thick, titties perfect
Inhale the cheese from here to tel aviv
Y’all know it, sh*t I don’t bluff
And no dough? I don’t f**k ’em
f**k i’mma fake for? 
Make mine’s, i’mma take yours
Cuz I’m no nigga like love b’fore
Make bit*h scream like, gimme some more
If a nigga broke, what’d you f**k him for? 
Waste of time
It’s like we playette minds
Dont stop, get it get it
Bit*hes, take it from a real motherf**kin’ pro
Y’all get that dough, we don’t trust these
niggas
They gon’ pimp if you let them
From ny to the dirty south
And them bit*hes’ dime tight
I got my mind right
And my ice got the shine right
And if it don’t blind bit*hes
When them lights hit the wrist? 
You won’t be sticking shit
You be lickin’ this

Repeat 1

[mjg]
I’m the pimp motherf**ker, baby
Ice cold, stories so high
I pimp the whole village twice
So tight fold crease right on the president’s
nose
Pimp clothes, drinkin straight henney’and
buckstrum
Touch toed, hoes take a centerfold pose
Break a treat, make ’em pay to enter those
Pros, slam those
Game tied tight like bows, we never close
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four
Hand chose bithces a la mode, gettin’ sold
Plus a load of killer, as chronic gettin’
blowed
Keep it froze, tucked up in a tupperware bowl
Stick of gold, somethin’ from the school of the
old
Forever flows, I take it down as deep as it can
go
Burn rolls, braids tight, blazed afros
We’re pushin’ hoes
Dicks get erect like poles, pay the toll
Mjg is in control

Repeat 1

[juvenile]
Peep dis’, you and them boys need to slow down
Up in the morning in the court, it’s ’bout to
go down
There’s no remorse now, better expose rounds
Them jackets be on the lose until the dope is
found
Juvenile’s my name, bit*h
I represent it to the end, the same shit
Niggers don’t be wearin suits on theses blocks
All you see is your boys and reeboks
A thin hat to the back with a strap too
Willin’ to bust a nigga as* if he had to
If you feel the same my nigger, you’s a hot
boy
Blocka, blocka, blocka
Better get up off the block, boy
Call for the cops, boy your mommy or pops, boy
Cash wasn’t a million, never hit the spot boy
You want props ha, you sold to the cops ha
You in a cell block ha, cuz you too hot ha

Repeat 1

[mjg]
Where the real ones at? be-atch...
Oh, you know how we feel
About all you ’wanna be’ as* ghetto super
stars
Wanna be like ’me ass" niggas
Tryin’ to be like foxy brown bit*hes
I give a f**k about your intermureal status,
motha f**ka
You ain’t nobody
We been doing this, been doin’ this shit
We go way back with this baby
Talkin’ about this real sh*t on the mutha
f**kin’ microphone
Pimps and hoes and gettin’ money
Tricks and hoes and f**kin’
Mutha f**kin’ clothes and sh*t ridin’ vogues
and shit
Nigga riding on 20’s and shit
Nigga what chu got? 
Brand new-assed nigga
You don’t know nothin’ about this game
Come on

Repeat 1 until fade