Let’s Ride lyrics

by

Goodie Mob


[Intro: 8Ball]
You know sometimes you have to use a little composure
Be playa about the situation but this is not the time n*gga
This is not the time n*gga its time to ride its time to ride

[8Ball]
Sometimes you have to keep it calm play it low
Bite your bottom lip to keep from clickin' on a ho
In the streets what the f*ck don't nobody play
From Memphis to the Bay n*ggas diein' all day
Over yea shipped with coke and candy cut up into bricks
b*tches that be thick be settin' up them tricks
Gettin' licks rules don't apply to gettin' rich
Start a business sell a ki pimp a b*tch
Make that switch real n*ggas flip sh*t
And farm the sh*t with a bad ass yellow b*tch
Eight-Ball translation three and a half
You not affiliated n*gga if you have to ask
Rich kid a queens n*gga a green n*gga
When I say green n*gga all about his cream n*gga
I suggest invest in a tank and a vest
Cuz me and all my n*ggas gone ride

[Chorus]
One time for my real n*ggas (let's ride)
Two times for the game its all in your brain
Man if I had a buck for everytime I've f*cked up
I would be the big willy n*gga with my feet up
But I'm in the field killin' for a meal
Around fake hoes talkin' about they keep it real
Money murder all in my eyes real n*ggas ride and they don't ask why
[MJG]
I'm a real ass n*gga who I be MJ
Livin' to handle business every god damn day
Now who in the f*ck be talkin' sh*t behind my back
Lookin' to find a hundred and thirty ways to get jacked
Tie you in the sack procede to pack you off too young
Yea you brought some pain I brought the rain and I stun to feel
I wonder will these fake ass b*tches become real
Hell naw don't forget bout the spliff and I tell ya'll
Should I spell ya'll fake ass bustas before I see ya
And I can tell by the scent in the air I don't wanna meet ya
And I don't care if its the motherf*ckin' holidays
I ain't gone preach just pose and look up at me like
A big 'ol pimp ass I'll beat 'cha
n*gga I smash down to take care of killers who spit trash
Small pounds no limit soldiers we kick cash
At the drop of ball D-I-M-E P-I-M-P
Tight pass n*gga for real trick don't tell me

[Chorus]

[8Ball]
Preacher man could you pray for me cuz I'm about to sin
My homicidal poetry killin' again and again
T-Mix gave me the gun when he sat and made the track
A mental picture forms when I fire up a batch
Of sticky green love controllin' what I'm speakin'
Sprayin' n*ggas leavin' n*ggas layin' up leakin'
For weeks and weepin' from my grim reapin' realiwin'
Mj wake 'em up from sleepin'
[MJG]
I'm creepin' peepin' in your windows
Smokin' regular now you gonna leave us behind
We two steps ahead of the competition
We leave 'em wishin' upon the moon
We here with T-Mix creatin' a boom to move the room
Its that pimp sh*t that hardcore sh*t that sh*t you run from
See I ain't got time for this superstlye sh*t i know where I come from
Ghetto hood ass n*gga hard nine if you ever wanna meet
Me in person I ain't hard to find

[Chorus]
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