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Lyrics » Letter : T » Artist : T.I. » Ride with Me Lyrics

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Ride with Me by T.I.القصائد الغناءيه -текстове на песни -texty -paroles -στίχοι -गीतletras -songteksten -тексты песен -versuri -tekst utworu -testi -the text of the song - - نص الاغنيةтекста на песента -tekst pjesme -text písně -teksten til sangen -teksti, laulu -le texte de la chanson -το κείμενο του τραγουδιού -पाठ के गीतEl texto de la canción -de tekst van het lied -der Text des Liedes -teksten til sangen -o texto da canção -Текст песни -textul de la piesa -Texten till låten -il testo della canzone

Ride with Me by T.I.

     

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Let's get it Homeboy, y'all already know what it is man, this ain't that New York man
T.I.P. pimp squad click, ya understand that? King of the South,
Westside to A-town you don't know any better
Nigga, understand? Bankhead!


[Chorus]
Come and ride wit me nigga, let me show you where we kick it at
Where them suckers get it at, and hustlers keep them chickens at
Ride wit me nigga, let me show you where we kick it at
Where ho niggas be snitchin at, and often come up missin at
Ride wit me nigga, let me show you where we kick it at
Where them killas livin' at and T.I.P. be chillin at
Ride wit a G, come and ride wit a G, all through the ATL'
Come and Ride wit a G

See me ridin through Atlanta, in the Phantom with the double-door
Make these bitches wonder what it been so much trouble fo
I'm touchin for, anytime they tryin Grand Hustle folk
Come bussin fo, What the fuck these all tha bussin cussin fo
You like it ho, a couple years ago I woulda probably cut ya throat
Fuck it though, when I'm spittin something on the nucka fo
This well known flow, man I got this shit from [?] Cicero
Adamsville, goin home, sellin' him his own phone
A drop top, flip flops, shine as the chrome glow
Tip hop out the booth, what he up and hurryin home fo
Wit long dough, shit he just doin what he known for
Blowin dro, twenty fo, livin how the song go
Rubber bird, turnin, and beatin like a congo
Try to jack, we pull the strap, say south pronto
King of the south, every hood's head honcho
I'm westside certified, go where the fuck we want

[Chorus]

I told ya I'm an O.G., never had cold feet
Ya in dough in O.T., f-nigga you don't know me
I knock ya out, put feet, put holes in ya till your clothes leak
Toss ya in the river like I threw away my old heat
You chose to oppose me, who the fuck ya supposed to be
My cannon filled, the Summer hill is on, three in the row wit me
No O's wit me, you know all the blow he fo is sold with me
I'm everythang you supposed to be, boy ain't no runnin' over me
Kick it with the King and lemme show ya what I mean man
Most these niggas rappin' bout a block ain't never seen now
Real niggas recognize, real niggas lean now
You don't know how to stab a nigga dead and keep a clean hand
Sell a block for twenty four and you got the seventeen grand
For eastside niggas in curtwood and l'il vietnam
These twenty sixes keep the attention of bitches
Come and ride with me pimpin and lemme show ya how we get it

[Chorus]

Alabama, Mississippi, come and ride wit a G
Dallas ride wit a G, Houston ride wit a G
Carolinas, Virgina, Philly, come and ride wit a G
Memphis ride wit a G, Chicago ride wit a G
California, Florida, Detroit, they all gon ride wit a G
Phoenix ride wit a G, St.Louis ride wit a G
Seattle ride wit a G, Jersey ride wit a G
Vegas, New York, and D.C. they all ride wit a G

[Chorus]

Writer : MC MASTERS, KEITH/HARRIS, CLIFFORD JOSEPH
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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