Tha producer :
That’s when we, that’s when we, that’s when we ride.
That’s when we, that’s when we ride on these bitches.
Tha Producer: chorus
That’s when we ride on bitches, you fucking faggot snitches, so don’t you try, we’re packin` 9’s,
we leave you dead in ditches.
Johnny 3 Tears:
Don’t get us wrong we only made this song, to make you feel hard when you hit the bong. When the 40`s up and then the 40`s gone, to Lick shots kill cops, to a hip hop song. So pull them toasters out them holsters, pull that shirt right off your shoulders, pull that 9 this is how you hold her, pull that trigger, H U soldiers.Punk (punk), rock out on the block, tick tock you can not stop(stop), hip hop like when we drop top so hot (so hot). Johnny 3’s been drinking whiskey,Trigger finger feeling frisky, when you shoot it’s so damn risky, dead in a ditch, but I hope you miss me
chorus
Charlie Scene:
Wait up hold on... oh no, got you faggots in a choke hold,
And I think I like you, but my 9 sho’ don’t. And how many shots till you hit that flo’, I bet fo’. (Yo Charlie you loco). Fo’ sho’, how many people dipping in my fo’ door. (I see three) Bitch no, there’s five in the back, and your girls on my lap, she’s a down low, pro ho, fo’ sho. What? What the fuck did I just say, I don’t ask any questions I just spray. So hey, what I may say may be riskee Deuce made me this way. That’s why you don’t want no beef, cause me verse you’s like beat the geeks. And we can talk right or in the street, but my gun talks first ‘cause he loves to speak – BITCH
chorus
Funny Man:
Yo… in the Coupe De’Ville with the shiny rims, playing these bitches like a violin. I got more freaks than a carnival, pop the trunk there’s my arsenal. I got bats gats straps so let’s start a war, I’ll eat you alive like a carnivore. My guns need nicotine they smoke more than me, I’m with my boy Charles P, he’ll go to war with me. Ooh wee…. Yo King Kong… swinging from a tree, dropping on these haters so they bleed, I’m coming at you bitches full speed, (Funny Man lay off the weed!). Oh people get jealous when I’m skatin’ on Dayton`s, and that’s like Freddy Kruger hatin’ on Jason. That’s got the Funny Man losing his patience leave you dead in a ditch on Highland and Franklin
chorus
J-Dog:
What, Say what the fuck, Six shooters up, now what the fuck …. point them up. Who’s down to ride, who’s down to ride, Undead pop shots we’re down to die.Who’s down to die who’s down to die, Undead pop shots, we’re bound to ride. Black hat side ways white bold LA, flat on your back leave you smoked like an ashtray. Wig split face ripped, nod if you’re listenin’ shot to the cross Leave you dead like a Christian. Pop Pop, your heart just stops stops, when I just cock cock, my gun cause I shoot for fun that’s how the west was won. I sell an ounce and then I sell two more, then I come to collect with the pistol 44. There’s some truth to that, About the weed or the gat, you may never know, just leave it at ...
 lyrics submitted by Cam on 08-10-2007 |
