Let’s Ride lyrics

by

Marsha Ambrosius


[Verse 1]
Pull the rag off the six-fo'
Hit the switch, show n*ggas how the sh*t go
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone
The Ds is chrome, the frame is black (So watch it lift up)
'Til the motherf*cker bounce and break
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate
Let the games begin
These other rap n*ggas so far behind me could taste my rims
sh*t, let the chronic burn as the Daytons spin
It ain’t been this much drama since I first heard Eminem
In the club, poppin' X pills like M&Ms,
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', b*tch bring a friend
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round
And put that cheap-ass Hypnotic down (Put your ‘cris up!)
If you feel the same way
Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA

[Chorus]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got b*tches in the back
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my sh*t, the west-coast in this b*tch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at, where the b*tches at
You f*ckin' on the first night, meet me in the back
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks
Move b*tch! Who the f*ck you think they came to see?
The protégé of the D-R-E
Take a picture with him, then you gotta f*ck me
And you gotta f*ck Busta, can’t touch Eve
Got somethin' in my waist that you can’t touch either
That’s, my gangsta b*tch, and like Crips and Bloods
I’m in the club on some gangsta sh*t (So n*gga twist up)
Light another dub
b*tches get scared when n*ggas start fightin' in the club
Ain’t nothin' but a g-thing, baby it’s a g-thing
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string
I f*ck a different b*tch seven days a week
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat

[Chorus]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got b*tches in the back
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my sh*t, the west-coast in this b*tch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 3]
n*ggas thought I wasn’t coming back, look at me now
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo'
With the motherf*cking top down, I'm The Game, n*gga
Call your b*tch, she ain't home, she with Game, n*gga
Remember that Dre, you passed me the torch
I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray
Ridin' three-wheel motion ‘till the ass scrapes
Turn sunset into a motherf*cking drag-race
Now watch it bounce
Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the sh*t down
(When you hit the club)
Tell 'em you came with me (We gonna twist up)
In the V.I.P
It’s a new day, and if you ever knew Dre
Motherf*cker, you would say I was the new Dre
Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke

[Chorus]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got b*tches in the back
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my sh*t, the west-coast in this b*tch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
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