Lyrics Ride - Snypaz

Industry shady but it can't fade me
It's on again, in my zone again
My chrome's my only friend
Ain't no head up when you try??
If not don't hop
Solid as penitentiary bars
Through the death and the bullet scars
Still down with it
So you know damn well the Chi gon' climb when they completely in it
One minute before that happened
So-called captains be walking the plank and get smashed
For acting and lacking the skills
Rapper La Mafia attracting the mills
From Cali to Pokers, Springfield they kill
Cap back for the dollar bill
Holler at Will, get the blunts for your grill
Still feel that y'all can't fuck with us cause
Kill-a-noy gets ill
Riddle your wife and kids when the blood spills
More terrifying than Amityville
So duck and head for the hills
Prepare for the ground with the open field
Scaring the chills, oh nigga it's real
The deal was made
So I gotta get paid and fade into your memory
No matter how you try to sniff me off into them clouds
You gon' remember me

Now in reality we all broke
Living our lives in gun smoke
Choke by the choke with my homie Lil' C
Drinking on a fifth with the R-O-B
How they gon' trip 'bout the life we live?
If I didn't pack clips then I wouldn't be here
For them meals so a soldier strive to survive
In a world so cold I cannot stay alive
In my eyes I can foresee the war
Fantasies of a nigga going out the door
Four niggas in a crackhouse, couldn't take the back route
'Til they get them niggas on the phone
Tell them G's out what the beef 'bout
Do you niggas want a hot one
Or feel the wrath from a motherfucking shotgun
From a young gun with a problem
Eighteen shots nigga can you dodge 'em?

Would you ride for me?
Get a high with me?
Would you lie for me?
Would you die for me?
Would I ride for you?
Get a high with you?
Would I lie for you?
Would I die for you?
Hell yeah you my nigga, what?
What the fuck?
And I been around your ass since the first day
Pops started every birthday
What is a waste of dead homies?
See you bloody in the worst face, in the worst way
In the worst case I done seen so-called OG's tumbling down
From a whole ki's, to OZ's, to rock streets
Give me the mic, I'll scream "Recognize the Mobb"
But you don't hear me, recognize the mob

I got hits with the tickets to hell but I can't go
Niggas sick of the smell but I ain't dope
Fuck waiting to exhale, I'm rushing to inhale
The niggas that I know stay the same old same
Cut 'em to the side, take it easy brodie
Stuff 'em in the ride, don't be freezing on me
Let me hit the high, where the ki's at shorty?
You drunk enough to drive? Fo' sheezy homie
Got caught a block but it's more than that
Thought I wouldn't see twenty but I'm far than that
I said fuck going back, it's all about stress
And ever living all ball with wall to wall stacks
My guys there, yeah we all set
Homie stomp it for me one time
Baby come and share that monkey sometime
I can set it off and jet off with some ride
And I'ma be the killer that roam overnight
If you click in a Rover come roll with me tight
I'ma keep control when I'm holding the mic
And tripping on a steady stroll
Petty hoes gotta get sniped
Chit-chatting on my regular phone
I got a ring ring ring on my cellular phone
A couple proper hood rats and they ready to bone
Business first so I left it alone
Yo I used to sit in school in my homies backyard drinking liquor
Bust back if they ever try to try a nigga
For the scrilla I'll hop in Holland, watch and lever
Born and raised in the Chi, it's a hot nigga

I'm known to bomb the Chi to South Park
Bump it in your Jeep, the Benz, we knock hard
Taking over towns, group homes and backyards
Eliminate the fake, the real'll shine hard
Never could you run a clique I made with my blood
And leave from my face or catch the hot slug
I'm ready for the chair, the price to unplug
A couple little kids along with one scrub
I only got love for those who give it back
Hang with the thugs and know to slang crack
Wish it was another way to slang and come back
You forgot?
I'm the nigga that snap
When they chilling back in '89 and made maps
Put our name on the bottom of spot 'em and shake caps
With the .44 caliber known to break backs
I'm a vet, you a baby so go on and take naps
With an itchy in your face I bet you run laps
Rip up the pages, fuck the contracts
Let off the gauge and spark the C-4
Put a match to your pages and your front door
I wonder would you catch some tips and all stop
'Cause them old lame bragging of 44 Mac pops
Yeah I want to feel the wrath, so bring it on
Take you to dead family with the chrome chrome
And ain't no so-called bitch outrun it
F-A-G's getting hunted
Run this shit from Chi
All the way from Monroe to the wild wild hundreds