paroles de chanson I'm Ridin' - Birdman feat. Lil Wayne

And I'm ridin' wit a body on the shotty
Stretch a nigga out like Pilates
Catch a nigga outside his hidey
Snatch all the honey from your
Honeycomb, now the bees keep flyin' by me
I'm on that piff, that potty
That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from the 90's
Shiny P-90 in the lining
I'm dining, don't time me mu'fucka

I'm a, young ass piranha
Don't get caught in that water cause I'm waitin' for a drowner
And on the corner I got packs on the counter
Before ya bitch leave I make Young Marl count 'em
Tryin' to get a dollar i could turn into a thousand
I'm so determined its a economic problem, drama
That's why I carry the llama
Ready at any given day to bury my honor
Love weed so much i tried to marry Juana
So pass the pastrami and asparagus mama, I'm lunchin'
Cause in my area
If you got bread you better break it or we sharin' ya
I got his ankles, and his stereo
Cause i could get a cool buck fifty
For that and the barrio, that's Hollygrove
It's Hollygrove til I adios
I gotta go, gotta go, got more bags to dope, yeah

Hot Boy Wayne
Since the beginning I've been in and out of some shit
Thinnin' out the thick
Living out the script, for the role that was chosen
But I don't want an award, I'm tryin' to afford
Back to the road in a Honda Accord
The whole right side slam down with that raw
A city supply the city get high, like
If I was Clear I woulda touched Claudette
I'm so fresh, like sex in the sheets
But I'm from the dirty dirty, like sex on the beach
The checks on my Nikes they match my carneesh
The button up shirt match my button seats
The AK-47 match my fuckin' heat
Watch your fuckin' feet cause I'm hot in the streets
A quarter thing is how i got in the streets
I had money ever since that week, young Weezy!

17 gangsta, Hollygrove soldier
Got a lil money, got a lot more colder
My top don't roll up, it fold up
My money don't fold up, it build up
You niggas ain't fly, get your gear up
Copped my bitch the Marc Jacob boots, and the ear muffs
Got her lookin' like Kamora or somethin
Brought Kamora to the South now Kamora stuntin'
Yeah we big business pimpin', chyea
Walkin' wit a limp, talkin' with a slur
Barkin' at ya' bitch, bet her pussycat purr
She all on mine, she ain't lookin' at yours
And if a man trip he get the blit bla blat blurr
Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first, chyea... chyea
Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first! Chyea!

And I'm ridin' wit a body on the shotty
Stretch a nigga out like Pilates
Catch a nigga outside his hidey
Snatch all the honey from your
Honeycomb, now the bees keep flyin' by me
I'm on that piff, that potty
That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from the 90's
Shiny P-90 in the lining
I'm dining, don't time me mu'fucka

I'm a, young ass piranha
Don't get caught in that water cause I'm waitin' for a drowner
And on the corner I got packs on the counter
Before ya bitch leave I make Young Mob count 'em
Tryin' to get a dollar i could turn into a thousand
I'm so determined its a economic problem, drama
That's why I carry the llama
Ready at any given day to bury my honor
Love weed so much i tried to marry Juana
So pass the pastrami and asparagus mama, I'm lunchin'
Cause in my area
If you got bread you better break it or we sharin' ya
I got his ankles, and his stereo
Cause i could get a cool buck fifty
For that and the barrio, that's Hollygrove
It's Hollygrove til I adios
I gotta go, gotta go, got more bags to dope, yeah

Hot Boy Wayne
Since the beginning I've been in and out of some shit
Thinnin' out the thick
Living out the script, for the role that was chosen
But I don't want an award, I'm tryin' to afford
Back to the road in a Honda Accord
The whole right side slam down with that raw
A city supply the city get high, like
If I was Clear I woulda touched Claudette
I'm so fresh, like sex in the sheets
But I'm from the dirty dirty, like sex on the beach
The checks on my Nikes they match my carneesh
The button up shirt match my button seats
The AK-47 match my fuckin' heat
Watch your fuckin' feet cause I'm hot in the streets
A quarter thing is how i got in the streets
I had money ever since that week, young Weezy!

17 gangsta, Hollygrove soldier
Got a lil money, got a lot more colder
My top don't roll up, it fold up
My money don't fold up, it build up
You niggas ain't fly, get your gear up
Copped my bitch the Marc Jacob boots, and the ear muffs
Got her lookin' like Kamora or somethin
Brought Kamora to the South now Kamora stuntin'
Yeah we big business pimpin', chyea
Walkin' wit a limp, talkin' with a slur
Barkin' at ya' bitch, bet her pussycat purr
She all on mine, she ain't lookin' at yours
And if a man trip he get the blit bla blat blurr
Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first, chyea... chyea
Credit Wayne for bringin' the hood back first! Chyea!