Cold 187um - Who Ryde lyrics

[Intro: KM.G (whispering)] Yea y'all know how, out here They won't let a n***a join a team and sh** So I guess, I just have to join a gang Damn my appetite for tough sh** Come on with me [KM.G] Tack me up baby, get me up, ace n***a in the front Me trey in me back and me stay strapped Bail and hangin', doin' a little dirt with my n***as While we flirt with some skirts, you know some hookers But we stay with it, yeah, we flip it We find us, a motherf**in' Chevy, then we dip it Then they asked me: "Why you're in the game Rollin' S-cla**es, humpin' Kokane?" [Kokane] Yeah, see you're lookin' at my hoochie it's about that time That me rollin' with my clique Pimp Clinic hittin' dodo sticks Cause b**hes be sayin: "Hey, Mr. Gold Wire player Won't you come out to be my hoe layer?" Nah b**h, I'll be sittin' at the dock of the bay Wating for the snow to roll in, split end It's Kokane a/k/a the black hopper Surrounded by the black teamsters with triple beamers Cause sometimes it gets so hard to slang yo stuff What you said KM.G? [KM.G] Chocolate Nuts [Kokane] What you got KM.G? [KM.G] Big brown chocolate nuts [Kokane] What we got KM.G? [KM.G] Chocolate nuts And I'm lookin' for them hookers with them big chocolate bu*ts To come get naked while we laugh about my jail record Gimmie' the drawers girl, so check it As I flow watch my bottom drop And I be fillin' my top, hittin' you up on your block [Hook: Kokane] (x2) Hard hard hard Hard hard hard Hard hard hard Hoping there's a change [Cold 187um] They wanna stop gangsta rap but they're kind of late Cause I've been kickin' gangsta sh** for 7 years straight And best believe makin' the end, ugh Puttin' in work for my n***as in the pen Cause see, once upon a time I had a cabin sack I start flossin' and flossin' and never got tracked Smokin' weed everyday And making funky beats for my n***as around the way Yeah, now I think I'm worth millions And your white folks mad cause I'm sellin' to your childrens By the ounce and by the key They don't wanna be like Mike, they wanna be like me What's happenin' in the ghetto ain't happenin' in Bel Air And I'm from California, not Delaware So boo-yaa, boo-yaa, boo-yaa, what's happenin' partner? Ugh, I'm all in this track and I'mma break you off somethin' proper Cause I'm the C-O-L-D, original 187 in the place to be So when you see me, you better give me my props Or get popped by the .44 and lined out in Shot sippin' And for me, see that's a promise, I ain't trippin' Boy, I'm just honest, ugh [Hook] (x2) [Tone Loc] I kick back, relax, cause I'm fat and all that When I attack, it's like a swing of a Baseball bat Don't appose me, cause I live my life cosy If I had a ring I'll be around rosie Lived my early years straight like a hoodlum No time for women cause I've never understood them They wanted to hold me, stretch me in Coupe De Rather have my forties an just groove in my hoopty Comin' down your block, your street, comin' down your avenue Check that gratitude, check my attitude You wanna run up, you got your gun up Fool, what's up? - sh**, your bet not even hick up Cause if you do, I'mma break your jaw Loc, Kokane and Above the Law Puttin' in work like some old Vietnam vets What we set, gettin' more more respects With residuals as individuals sad as pitiful That you can't get a hook Of Tone Loc kickin' that raw sh** for your life West Side Tribe and Black Mafia Life [Hook] (x2)