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Viewing Lyrics for Ride Till We Die:
| | | Artist: | C |
| | Album: | Til My Casket Drops | | Track: | Ride Till We Die | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 72 | | | | Lyrics: | 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:
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 | | | |
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More C Lyrics:
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| 1. | Survival 1st view | | 2. | Making Moves view | | 3. | Money Talks view | | 4. | Till My Casket Drops view | | 5. | On Show Me Luv view | | 6. | Commercial view | | 7. | Can We All Ball view | | 8. | Money By The Ton view | | 9. | AKickDoe view | | 10. | Picture Me view |
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