Shyne - Ridin' Round lyrics

[Intro:] American Psycho 2, Red Cafe LA Lakers and who care Shout to the boy Shyne too on this one Po wadup! [Verse 1:] I'm riding round in that Bugatti my dogs safe and my toolie on me My head Lous and Illuminati gangly hoolie on me I ain't playing these kid games, my head be co*ked and my cig. Banged Put 50 shots in your rib cage D.O is A On the freeway like i'm Rock man, hammering in big my vans Fast keys, fast keys tell the federales to come get man I ain't worried bout his bae i'm getting mine,and i'm busy They be false alarm but I blasé [?] I ba-hall like wa-hall when hall off with that sawed off You gon call girl when I bomber off your brains over that walla Call her, [?] mamas talk, east side worldwide gangland muzzle talk Yeah! [Chorus:] I escape the Rico, I ain't even pose to be home Ken of supreme is ma hero, yeah! hard head but [?] Riding round in that Bugatti Riding round in that Bugatti Riding round, riding round Riding round in that Bugatti My tool on me, my tool on me Riding round, dark shades Riding round Illuminati Repeat [Verse 2:] I'm riding round in that veyron my black strap and my stays on My black hood and my Treyvon, my modular Akon My dark level my cape mask, my life these rappers based on [?] That white girl that black power I back out and I clap cowards Hundred rounds hundred rounds hundred rounds with these best [?] These rap dudes like Matt Lao old talks bad films, watch me throw em Watch me throw em, watch me throw em cause that's Elvis Yeah! [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Look i'm riding round in that Bugatti Plan of kush, few molly Strapped up, turnt up At the monster balling finna f** Holly A town a finna touch follies, my rap sheet too much bodies 6 hoes mother f** foes, me and Po 2 shotties Iced out no blood diamonds, this thug life real thug shining All off that block work, shakedown mobster Leaned back in that veyron, trunk full of that Heron See me for that fish scale I parachute with them bricks on East side i'm bossed up feet up in that big B Me and all these big B's, VVS on my wrist be YSL how my b**h be way out in sicily I'm living this real life that f** sh** boy miss me [Chorus:] I escape the Rico, I ain't suppose to be home Pimp C gave the G-code, ain't noth'n free but a free throw I'm riding round in that Bugatti Riding round in that Bugatti Riding round, riding round Riding round in that Bugatti My tool on me, my tool on me Riding round, dark shades Shakedown Illuminati