Celly Cel - Ride (feat. C-Bo) Lyrics
f/ C-Bo* send corrections to the typist[x 4]Eye for an eye [eye for an eye]Ride or you die [ride or you die][Celly Cel]Won't leave the house unless I'm strapped upI might get backed up in the trafficNiggas is dumping on me when I got my zapperCreeping up on meAnd I got one hand on the wheelOne hand on the steelTrying to break a nigga for skrillAnd I'm ridin' wit sharp shootin' skillsFunk season, whatever the reasonI'm dealing wit dramaSend me one of them mangie ass niggasRunnin' home, cryin' to MamaSo I kick the door to eliminate the whole situation*****in' wit me me will ended upHaving his family erasededFace it, no charges leaving the body behind untilYou better respect gameBow down when real niggas bail through yo hoodBut won't be caught up in a twistFlash on us unless you end up sleeping wit the fishSeamin' shoes, lady singing the blues, them sad balladsFried chicken, collad greens, and potato saladsSurrounded them by [?] of family members cryin'Eye for an eye' you ride or you die[Chorus] x 4Eye for an eyeYou ride or you die ride or you dieNiggas get at cha and run back at themBut let them bullets fly[C-Bo]He got the Mac One-OAnd moved nice on the piggiesHit 'em up and buckAnd leave them struck when I'm tipsyAin't no love for the true thugsThat die for this shitWit 150 round drum ride for this shit***** the hard hats end locs, pass the fo foAnd watch me smoke them hoesLike the last hit of indo, and fo' shoI smash and blast, nigga, when I'm provokedWith a doe of platinum cokeI holds down a fort[Celly Cel]Why you smiling forThese niggas playing games on the streetThat's where they meet the heatThey sweep they ass up off of they feetThis ain't no fairy taleYou *****in' with CelHit the scenes wit machinesIf you want my teamIt ain't no in betweenSeventeen through your templeWhen your crossing the realest niggasTo spit this killa shit on the micAnd make the world feel usHit 'em wit rounds [?][?] of hollows then we followNiggas to they spineAnd chop they ass upWit fully-auto's[Chorus] x 4[C-Bo]I ain't no actor *****My life is worser than the moviesFor real though, from steel toes to my uziPushin' Impala S.S.'sBenz, Beamers, to LamborginisAnd chase my strip down wit X.O., Henn, and RemiRolex on my wristHundred dollar bill's crispI pull the blunt from my lipThen the 4-5 from my hip and spitThe incredible medical or hard coreThe deadliest medacine gas ever set off in a warWestcoast's the spotWhere we lock our million dollar doorsSurvival in hell, packing heatDucking from themI'm just a thug niggaStep on your street and draw my heatAnd then I plug niggasI be a G from the G.B.C.That's why I mug niggasDon't flag I just sag and carry a magAnd get off in the snitches assesYou a ***** but still ride or dieScreaming out the block***** I'll have you die wit doc [echoes out][Chorus] x 4*echoes*Bullets fly
