C-Bo - Fo Ridas lyrics

Uh This one's fo the money Uh Verse 1 We ridin raw '97 Suburban's wit the chrome kit Every n***a 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 b**hes on they knees, dyin to get wit these If a b**h ain't about her money, man I can't f** wit that Got to be down to run the street, sellin that p**y or move some yak Ask yo folks b**h like 40 I'm so serious about my scratch Livin like a straight hustla b pa** the weed, man f** 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 gla** packs Representin to the fullest, the west-side of the map Where we roll strapped wit black ridas stuck in the mack Ridas *(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 b**hes 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 b**hes 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 n***a, 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 f**az can't hang wit the Garden Blocc gang Packin tech's, quick to wreck brains I'm insane, like the loccest mutha f**a on caine To k** first like a rida, is the rules of the game Rida *(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 n***as, then a million man march An hang those n***as, blessed wit a weak heart No marks in my game, then bump an pull triggaz Mash off an ridas leavin nuthin but dead n***as I'm real wit this, that's why they k** wit this Young ballaz on alcohol, that'll peel yo sh** 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 *(chorus)*