J-Ro - Likwit Ridas lyrics

Intro: WhoRidas. Tha Alkaholiks (X8) WhoRidas: Fo-sho shots get dropped and popped just like a picklock With the master key, but the master key be me I a**ign chop from hot, like a cold on a stove And commence to roll, like a tire A real rider will ride ya, like a stallion with a chair Any buster be cherbin', in the game that's embarra**in' And we came prepared because I'm round ho On the down low And I hit the block with a 50 brown drama metal calico From the O to Mexico, we rip shows, gotta let them know How we flow, when we get the doe and roll a little harder So we smoke a hundered yarder, Bogard, who ridin' Marvin? No duckin' and dodgin', my n***as be ridin' But we be no gangstas, straight laced parlayers You stick around and watch my money lay ya And I know them haters, don't want to see you excel On the way to Bogel, but them busters always bumpin' They gun with a story to tell, fresh off the press Hittin' hard like a tech on the target Scratching "Just grab the mic, ? don't do it right." J-Ro: J-Ro rock the party till the needle start skippin' I'm trippin' like Pippen, long hour sippin' Uh, ? deep into books on my shelves I like them s**y ladies that can do for they damn selves What good is a beautiful dame, with a Royals Royce frame And a Volkswagen brain My style be kind of old, like gold But it's the reason why I still mold, C-notes in my bill fold I like my brew real cold, it's the Ro-gram you with me Swift won't you hit me, one time, fo the troubles in these rhymes n***as do crimes and never make it past they primes My flows are numerous like East Valley murders Bustin' sh** off like talk is cheap like Rally's burgers You know that cool n******go, riding on a metro With the Cold 4-0, I really don't like to permote guns But I got one, a pistol grip shot gun My other one weighs a ton, son, kid, loc, dog, whatever f**in' with the Likwit will get your head severed WhoRidas get it poppin' lik Buggalo shrimp, we got a perment job At rappin', we just attempt, and I Pimp the flow like Imp the Dimp And I run around 40's like my n***a Shawn Kemp, and I'm out Hook: This is how it goes down, check out he sound Westcoast underground, who is the tightest? The Liks and WhoRidas (X2) WhoRidas: Trust no one, smash, with my family do or die When we ride on by cartel, street gangs by bail makes mail Won't stop, I sell, I need to proceed I can't cross what a n***a need with greed So I sit with Walley, and make my plan till dividens will end With this look, my grand one of a kind like a brick To buy some sh** once find, and flip it twice But don't put a thang on hold we roll We stay on the road, I gtta make my fetti even if it's off the wall Gotta stay on the ball, my gift to gab, make a lotta cash Sit back in a lab and strike oil like an Arab For sheeze, I know my brown preeza, oh Jesus In my lifetime so many fans movin' hand to hand So many n***as ou there trying to be the man Like Neon Deion, got jacked like peons On the front line for the first time Talking: Hey, what's the big idea? Put that gun away Harry we have a deal It's never too late to improve your barganing position Tash: And to whom it my concern, it's Tash turn to burn Bored as f** with the mic I snatch that sh** from Howard Stern And host my own show Cause Tash is bout it bout when it's crowded I'm here to rock y'all n***as even though I'm Guinestouted So slide some oil to these stiff MC's While I get into this style that bones like M 3's Cause I'm here to clock cheese, my style is mega costly Even Oakland n***as ay "Tash is hella saucy" (What!) I stomp out the cop out, no ties or split deciesions The Hennessy is f**in' with my vision But even half blind, I still find a rhyme to blow your mind That's why I walk around L.A. with more hoes than Ginuwine So jump in the saddle if y'all n***as wanna battle Cause I roll shake and rattle till your whole crew skidattle I'm posted to be chosen as the one to keep it pumpin' That's why you lookin' at me like "Tash is up to somethin'." I am though, I'm peepin' out the ladies on the wall That keep they self together with draweres that match they bras I feel 'em and I know them b**hes feel me Cause I go by the name of (Catashtophy!) Hook (X2)