M-1 - Ridin' lyrics

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M-1 - Ridin' lyrics

[Intro] Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha Dead prez Bet you never thought the truth would come out of Mississippi Big face, RBG, David Banner [David Banner] I'm from a place Where you gotta let yo' nuts hang Where them crackas used to cut your stomach open Just to let your f**in' guts hang Right there in front of the kids I might as well split your wig Cause that's just what the ma**a did But now I'm the new Nat Turner Spreadin' something to the kids Like Sojourner, man, the truth f** a critic, i give the que and doubts will "Woof" He ain't dead, what a pres There's a stank up in the Bush Or a stank up in the White House Shootin' ball bullsh**, man its Jerry Krause Here in Chicago bullets is high-low But we always come back, click the bottles co*k them AK's, bust on KK's With another one, or the other two, and a Stic-man Living dead on your shirt like I'm quick-span You a grown man, n***a stand tall Don't it hurt cause you really ain't a n***a, dog? Don't it hurt cause you really ain't a n***a, dog? Don't it hurt cause you really ain't a n***a, dog? [Hook] Country boys, city boys Cadillac, Rools Royce Whatever, long as we ridin' Pretty girls, ghetto boos On the boulevard, in the avenue It's a long walk, now that we ridin' [M-1] Yo, n***as is not original, n***as follow the radio n***as think if you blow then you gotta be on the TV show Crackas is hypocritical, crackas would rather sh** on you Then see you do what they do, they know freedom is powerful n***as is very visual, if we see it we think it's true Very few n***as make a move and even less'll see it through Crackas make up the chemicals, then they call us the criminals Crackas make all the loot and we just get the residuals n***as would rather shoot on you, crackas will drop a bomb on you n***as is having funerals, crackas is having barbecues n***as sing the blues that's reminicin' the spiritual But when you say God is you, n***as ain't really hearing you Crackas like to capitalize, know crackas will lie They say if you don't imunize you will probably die I hate callin' n***as, "n***as" so I'ma take it backwards But I got no love for whitey, I love callin' 'em "crackas" [Hook] [Talib Kweli] Yeah, I call myself real N-I G-G-A Cause Kweli be showin' all the flaws in their policies My philosophies show you that the block is a part of me Freedom fighter like Bunchy Carter be It's deep how the street knowledge be Cause it ran like a code inside of me It's practical, not scholarly Now why do I call myself a n***a, you ask me Who's got my back when the cops hara** me New York, L.A or Cincinnati Can ride the train or wip the Caddie When they call you a "n***a" they scared of you They fearin' you, so actually If crackas gonna be fearing n***as Then that's what the f** I have to be Now, it's a badge of honor and some say that sh**'s absurd It's more than just a word, we flip the sh** like it's a bird Pa** it down through generations Then cuss you out and say it loud Be the first generation of muthaf**as To grab our nuts and say it proud Country n***as or city n***as 2Pac n***as or biggie n***as In the corridor, floor or door And all my Mississippi n***as We connected all throughout The north, the east, the west, the south And if a white boy say the sh** He'll still get punched right in the mouth [Hook] [Outro - Stic.man] All they got for you is a cell, my n***a They want you dead or in jail but I rebel, my n***a In the streets, it's similar to hell, my n***a But we gonna boss up and live well, my n***a You see, all they got for you is a cell, my n***a They want you dead or in jail but I rebel, my n***a In the streets, it's similar to hell, my n***a But we gonna boss up and live well, my n***a