C-Bo - Fo Ridas

Je score:
This one's fo the money

 Verse 1

 We ridin raw '97 Suburban's wit the chrome kit
 every nigga on trigga ready to dome split
 got a million
 but still ain't satisfied
 gold thangs on every old school that we ride
 got keys
 so many g's
 bitches on they knees  dyin to get wit these
 if a bitch ain't about her money  man I can't fuck wit that
 got to be down to run the street  sellin that pussy or move some yak
 ask yo folks bitch like 40 I'm so serious about my scratch
 livin like a straight hustla b pass the weed, man fuck a batch
 from Vallejo to Sac
 pushin new Lacs an '96 Ac's
 we roll strapped, lounge wit the money from the game of crack
 some million dolla macks gettin taxed for the crack sack
 from 'ol skool seven-deuce Chevy's an glass packs
 representin to the fullest, the west-side of the map
 where we roll strapped wit black ridas stuck in the mack

 *(Chrous- C-Bo)*

 I was born in hell juss to be a rida
 wit lo-lo's an 4-4's an mo hoes fo the ridas
 keep my pants saggin stay strapped wit the magnum ridas
 desperado outlaws do the dirt

 Verse 2

 I got bitches like the mack, out to get my scratch
 pushin the '9-7 Lac, movin keys of yak
 an ain't a damn thang changed about the dope game
 but the bitches size the money an the price of the caine
 from ruby 13-5's is how we get it
 cracked out, the metro packs saran wrapped an get it
 if it's money then a nigga, gots to get it
 hit it an quit it, but I ain't wit it less it's worth a mill ticket
 I'm a savage
 about my cabbage
 I gots to have it
 automatic, movin through traffic prepared fo static
 got a sack that weighs a ton, wit a mac-11 one, uh
 jackas when they come, get done-ditty-done, trick
 mutha fuckaz can't hang wit the Garden Blocc gang
 packin tech's, quick to wreck brains
 I'm insane, like the loccest mutha fucka on caine
 to kill first like a rida, is the rules of the game

 *(Chorus)* x1

 Verse 3

 Diamond rings, an chains down wit the Rolex name
 ridin Lexus's in Texas i where my pits get trained
 mo pain
 then I proceed to gain
 like a gumbo pot full 'o sell 'em up full of caine
 got a 4-5 got a Stang I'm Major Pain inflictin pain
 no pain, no gain
 was out fo murda when I came
 don't tame mo niggaz, then a million man march
 an hang those niggaz, blessed wit a weak heart
 no marks in my game, then bump an pull triggaz
 mash off an ridas leavin nuthin but dead niggaz
 I'm real wit this, that's why they kill wit this
 young ballaz on alcohol, that'll peel yo shit
 don't try to act like you hardcore
 knowin you ain't
 Mafia's ready fo war bringin the yellow tank
 westcoast is the spot where I slang my yey
 distributin it nation wide, all across the state
 fo ridas.

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Taal: Engels

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