Текст песни 50 Cent - Ryder Music

The Massacre
Жанр: Rap
Исполнитель: 50 Cent
Альбом: The Massacre
Длительность: 03:52
Рейтинг: 5149
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Samovar

Текст:

Yeah Yeah we can ride to this Just lay back, crew [Verse 1] Here's a taste of my life, its bitter and sweet I put my heart out to the sounds of the drums and the beat I put my life on the line when I'm out on the street Put my teflon on and roll with my heat I keep my circle nice and small, I don't fuck with these clown niggas In a race for the cheese, I run laps around niggas Soon as I step on stage, the crowd applauds Soon as my sneaker wear in stores, Reebok stock soar I ain't gotta say I'm a boss, niggas can tell The east coast crib, the size of a small hotel The shit journalist write about me, get me confused Have me feelin' like the heavy weight champ when he lose I read somewhere, I'm homophobic shiiit Go through the hood, there's mad niggas on my dick Now we can get hostile or we can do this smooth T&T around, I can still make blow move [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) [Let's go] [Verse 2] Last year, I woke up, a good look, damn it feels good On the low, I done fucked half of Hollywood Had your favorite actress from your favorite shows In my favorite position, you know how it goes In my Bentley bumpin' Prince shit "This is When Thugs Cry" This is what it sounds like when hollow tip slugs fly Homie, this is somethin' you can ride and smoke to Stay on point, cause niggas will ride and smoke you Jealousy's for women, but some niggas is bitch made They make you wanna run across they're head with a switch blade They point their finger at me, sayin' I'm bug My flows crack you listen, your fuckin' brains on drugs Look, ice drippin' on my neck, hands grippin' on the tec Fool trippin' through the set, you can get ya ass whipped Cards missin' out my deck, screws loose show respect You try to come at me kid, your ass better come correct [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) (Let's go) [Verse 3] My mama gave birth to a winner, I gotta win Pray to Lord, forgive me for my sins Still thuggin', cruisin', rims gleamin' Like the stones on my wrist Zonin', guess this is how it feels to be rich Homie, you hustlin' backwards if you chasin' a bitch Stupid, chase the paper, they come with the shit I'm fallin', in love with success Entrepeneure, connoisseur, I maneuver the best Rowin', ruger on my lap, rubber grip on the handle Stunt I'll have ya homies burn a rest in peace candle As wise men speak, I listen and learn A man dies, a baby's born, my niggas the world turns Rappers, I make 'em sick when I say I'm the shit They mistake my confidance for arrogance, they hate on the kid In '99, I had a vision and made a decision Bein' broke is against my religion, now picked up [Chorus x2] This is what you call ryder music All the gangstas are ridin' to it Let's roll, I can show ya how we do it When we ride to that ryder music (let's go) (Let's go)
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