Tekst piosenki
*(Yukmouth)* Yes! (Uh!) Yes! Welcome! (Thug niggas throw yo turf in the air!) Smoke-A-Lot up in this bitch! (Throw yo hood in the air!) A-G-2 the Ke, DMG, yes! Let's kick this anthem shit Chorus *(Yukmouth)* All of my niggas Ridaz Small time grindas, pimps and big timers Whether it's heron or hemp wit China I'm not a bitch on the strip sellin vagina (Come on, come on) Verse 1 *(Yukmouth)* Nigga I'm always into somethin If I can't beat yo ass then I'm dumpin Give a nigga the pumpkin head deluxe Then come back an shoot up they whole fuckin function We funkin Rootin-tootin, smokin on blunts wit skunk until a nigga malfunction Get in the coupe and punch it Niggas be funkin for nothin Fuckin the game, another nigga done lost his name for side bustin Fire somethin Puffin I put it up in the air You niggas live to die hustlin, I'm fuckin wit playas from every where From Las Vegas to Delaware on down to there I'm a thousandaire Mackin bitches, draggin 'em down the strip juss by they hair Like "Oh dear!" Where the fuck is money? Don't go there I leave yo ass stuck, hungry starvin in the middle of no fuckin where I swear Cut off your privlage like welfare Section 8, Smoke-A-Lot'll stay placed in Berlin By the end of 9-8, hell yeah Then I'll be straight Fuck off a hundred G's and still got money up in the safe Ridaz nigga! *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 2 *(G-Mone of A-G-2-A-Ke)* Go inside the twitchin, missin, my mission I vision the hit Suckas keep watchin yo mental mix is gettin twisted Who is this? In the kitchen wit fixings for the come up Servin rocks on the block til it get hot snitch we ridin on ya Bitch we Ridaz Remind ya that niggas high If I introduce you to the ditch, you don't wanna die Is the hit Smoke, drank already lit Caulkin my shit Who you think you fuckin wit? I said recognize the mutha fuckin Mobb hoe I don't know nothin, juss heard poppin by the door Who flipped you in the river did you see G Mone in the "O" By the ??? Flippin this A-G-2-A mutha fuckin Ke You best believe we rob yo spot Why not? We Rap-A fuckin Lot Owe us some paper There's no reason for us to not Glock Posted wit yo mouth open hopin that I don't squeeze Wit a swift chopped up to his knees Say where the cheese? We Ridaz! *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 3 *(Yukmouth)* I'm juss a Y.G Who snuck in the gamblin shacks Scramblin crack wit niggas who did more years than Geronimo Pratt Killas wit hands on they gats, mutha fuckin murder fo' hire Mobb attire, pupils dialated, nigga hog tied in barb wire Torture, squeeze a niggas nuts wit plyers Put his place on fire Then escape juss like McGuyver wit the get-away driver Live and direct from the projects that be gated On some made shit Outlaw affiliated! He chose to spray wit gages Baraccaded the scene, yellow tape and white chalk Niggas who like doe, I get paid off Fuck a write-off It's tax free money Deliver 'em a China up inside a Taxi honey Task be lookin at me funny Know I'm a trigga happy, gats be hungry Barkin on niggas like DMX Beat bitches like PMS And flee ridin a BMX, flippin GA checks at yo set Grab the promoter by his mutha fuckin neck Don't be fooled by the Rolex! *(Chorus)* 2x Verse 4 *(DMG)* Who in the mutha fuckin hell Nothin but Regime Ridaz Southside affiliated wit big timers Ballers Killers, who live in mansions off the water Lunitiks, shippin in bricks after brick 200 percent, pure snow white Coca-Cola Straight Yola all the way from the Bay to Minnesota What you know bout, this Face Mob rida Dumpin off on yo shit 4 and 5 timer Yuk, I think it's time we fuck these mutha fuckas up Show these mutha fuckas up, straight up drama uncut Fuck they mamas They fuckin wit killas wit seven figgas Psycos, drinkin the bottles of nitro Now it was Yukmouth That told me that He got "5 On It" And I believed that And now you Better believe it too Nigga I will shoot Murder up you and you we Ridaz!! (echos) *(gun shots fire off)*
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