Ride Til' We Die

C-Bo

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    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
    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:

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    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)

    Información de la canción

    Composición: C-Bo y 151

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