Too $hort (too Short) - Ride (Down South) lyrics

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Too $hort (too Short) - Ride (Down South) lyrics

[Intro] Let's get it hype, n***a Let's get it crump Yeah, yeah, yeah [Eightball] Pa** me then Swisher Streets, let's get it in crump If a n***a disrespect me I'mma prove my sh** and dump Blast rhymes like I pump, turn your belly to jelly Veteran MC, I don't think you rookies is ready Three hundred and fifty pounds of pressure to deal with I run with suave, always packin' somethin' to k** with Feel this b**h, when I get rich I'mma still hustle Go down in history, paper taller than Bill Russell Kilo flows, I got 'em hid in the basement Choppin boys up, on some puttin it in they face sh** Eightball, F-a-t M-a-c-k, known for layin' it down And doin' sh** the playa way Callabo's of the dough ain't no secret Space-age pimpin' means I don't do sh** free Time waits for no one, it ain't gon' wait for me Yours truely, signed Eightball and MJG [Hook - MJG] All my hardcore n***as, what you want to do? My real thug-a** n***as, what you want to do? All my money making b**hes if you ride with me I'm a pimp till I die and I'mma ride for you Now where them real b**hes at? Where them real b**hes at? Where they at, where they at, where they at, huh? Now where my buck n***as at? Where my buck n***as at? Where they at, where they at, where they at, come on [Foxy Brown] I ain't new to this Damn nice b**h thats true to this Money ain't never been a thing to me Always stack my dough, holla back (uh) Ass fat, thighs thick, titties perfect Inhale the cheese from here to Tel Aviv Y'all know it, sh** I don't bluff And no dough? I don't f** 'em f** I'mma fake for? Make mine's, I'mma take yours Cause I'm no n***a like love before Make b**h scream like "Gimme some more" If a n***a broke, what'd you f**ed him for? Waiste of time, it's like we playettes minds Don't stop, get it get it b**hes, take it from a real motherf**in' pro Y'all get that dough, we don't trust these n***as They gon' pimp if you let 'em From NY to the dirty south And them b**hes dime tight I got my mind right And my ice got the shine right And if it don't blind b**hes When them lights hit the wrist? You won't be stickin' sh** You be lickin' this [Hook] [MJG] I'm the pimp motherf**er baby! Ice cold, stories so high I pimp the whole village twice So tight fold crease right on the president's nose Pimp clothes, drinkin straight Henny and buckstrum Touch toed, hoes take a centerfold pose Break a treat, make 'em pay to enter those Pros, slam those Game tied tight like bows, we never close Three-sixty-five, twenty-four Hand chose b**hes a la mode, gettin' sold Plus a load of k**er, as Chronic gettin' blowed Keep it froze, tucked up in a Tupperware bowl Stick of gold, somethin' from the school of the old Forever flows, I take it down as deep as it can go Burn rolls, braids tight, blazed afros We're pushin' hoes Dicks get erect like poles, pay the toll MJG is in control [Hook] [Juvenile] Peep dis, you them boys need to slow down Up in the mornin' in court, it's 'bout to go down There's no remorse now, better expose rounds Them jackets be on the lose until the dope is found Juvenile's my name, b**h I represent it to the end, the same sh** n***as don't be wearin suits on these blocks All you is is your boys in Reeboks A thin hat to the back with a strap too Willin' to bust a n***a a** if he had to If you feel the same my n***a, you's a hot boy Blocka, blocka, blocka Better get off the block boy Call the cops boy, your mama and pops boy Cash wasn't a million, never hit the spot boy You want props ha, you sold to the cops ha You in a cell block ha, cause you too hot ha [Hook] [Too $hort] Where the real ones at? Beyotch... Oh, you know how we feel About all you wannabe a** ghetto superstars Wanna be like "me a**" n***as Tryin' to be like Foxy Brown b**hes I give a f** about your intermureal status motherf**er You ain't nobody We ben doin' this, been doin' this sh** We go way back with this baby Talkin' about this real sh** on the motherf**in' microphone Pimps and hoes gettin' money Motherf**in' clothes and sh** ridin' vogues and sh** n***a ridin' on twenty's and sh** n***a what you got? Brand new-a**ed n***a You don't know nothin' 'bout this game Come on [Hook till fade]