Vince Staples — Ride Out

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Текст Vince Staples — Ride Out

Ride out, get smoke
Re-up, get dough
Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Ride out, get smoke
Re-up, get dough
Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Young nigga and I’m proper, like
Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah, I’m baller-like
Bitch, I think I’m Dolemite, bitch, I’m goin’ Poltergeist
Who said this was overnight? Album four is really like (Yeah)
Crippin’ on my minibike (Oh), either hoop or sellin’ white
Brillo pad, the smoker’s pipe, my pistol cocked, you tryna fight?
Say he wanna be a cuz, put his brains to the right
Bruh, this ain’t the eighties, mayne, niggas shootin’ everything
Everything! You know the gang we represent
Specialize in pistol grips, shootin’ out my momma’s whip
Always got an empty clip, Top Dawg in this bitch
Niggas puttin’ dicks inside your baby momma’s momma’s lips
Shootin’ all the witnesses, it ain’t no fuckin’ murder scene
Crips don’t fuck with Crips so now his jeans look like the rival team
Wrong hat and shoes, put your ass on a forever-dream
Heatin’ up the summer ’til the winter fall, spring clean
Ride out, get smoke

Re-up, get dough
Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Ride out, get smoke
Re-up, get dough
Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Young nigga and I’m proper like
Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah, I’m baller like
Bitch, I think I’m Dolemite, bitch, I’m goin’ Poltergeist (Yeah)
Who said this was overnight?
Me and Vince, we crackin’ like, crippin’ in our afterlife
Yeah, ’cause at Ramona Park
We beef with everybody

Light or dark, I’ll spark, don’t fuck with narcs
So don’t be talking ’bout me
My big homie named me «Get Em, Kill Em»
‘Cause if I got ’em I’ma kill ’em, I ain’t playin’ with ’em
I’m from the bottom, that’s the top of the town
We on the border, so they cliquin’ up for knockin’ us down
My burner tucked, I learned from Chuck so I ain’t turnin’ it down
Get to bustin’, know you bluffing, nigga
If that bitch can’t make me rich
Then ain’t no need in fucking with her
Turn around and fuck her sister
Heard that bitch got EBT

Long Beach ain’t seen shit like me since Tracy D and DPG
I went and got a burner on the day they murdered Baby D
I’m in that Benz with Lil Boy, so, lil boy, don’t play with me
Huh, I’m ridin’ cycs through Hoover Street
My knuckles full of teeth
Try to creep on me, you’re dyin’ in your homie seat
Keeping to my gun in reach, for later beef
Clip reach from Figg Side to Norfolk Beach
In a stolen Expedition, in your hood, ’cause you the mission
Been a mathematician, load nine, subtracting eight
I’m keepin’ one for just in case, don’t cover face but I ain’t trippin’
Blunt was laced, niggas know I’m ’round the way
So ain’t no liquor stores today
Ride out, get smoke
Re-up, get dough
Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Ride out, get smoke
Re-up, get dough

Gs up, hoes blow
Freeze up, eyes closed
Young nigga and I’m proper like
Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah I’m baller like
Bitch, I think I’m Dolemite, bitch, I’m goin’ Poltergeist
You said this was overnight
Me and Vince, we crackin’ like, crippin’ in our afterlife
Ride, ride, ride, ride
Ride, ride, ride, get dough
Gs, Gs, Gs, Gs, Gs
Eyes closed
Ride, ride, ride, ride
Ride, ride, ride, ride
Ride, ride, ride, ride
Ride, ride, ride, ride
Ride, ride, ride, ride