paroles de chanson Ride On 4's - J Dawg & Slim Thug

Ha-ha, H-Town say
I got my Lac sitting low, like a Honda Civic
Hundred sack of that dro, got a G lifted
And the way I work the grain, gotta be gifted
Dipping, in and out of traffic swiftly
Tipsy, off drank but no beers here
I got a tre, and a twenty ounce root beer
Muddy, like a motherfucking hog pen
Banging Pac "Makaveli", play that number eight again
Time go by, puffing on high
I′m feeling too fly, and that ain't even high
See I′s a gangsta nigga, I shoot or shank a nigga
But it's some'ing about them swangas, that′ll change a nigga
Have you chunking the deuce up, to a stranger nigga
You shining harder than a bitch, he don′t blame you nigga
Who could blame you nigga, you doing the damn thang
Staying true to the game, you deserve to swang
Behind that five percent, windows never go down
Music never go down, my nigga say slow down
Keep driving, pass that dro
Tip slow while you ride on 4's, when we ride on 4′s
Hit your breaks homie, let the third light glow
Swang open the do', let em smell the dro
Naw we ain′t capping, that there for them bitches
We grinding hard as fuck, and riding on our riches
Shit the fam good, the kids good
So why not grip wood through the hood nigga, come on now
Kush got me gone now, I don't smoke the stress
I been blessed, so if it′s in the air it's the best
And if it's in my cup, it′s that purple
Got me flipping through the hood, riding in a circle
No destination, nigga just riding
Big mothership gliding, motor on siding
That′s what it is, what could be better
Send a couple pictures of the slab, in the letters
To my niggaz in the Penn, I'm a hold you down
Show the whole unit, how we do in H-Town nigga yeah
I′m rolling on 4's, with the windows closed
Dro smoke up out my nose, letting the trunk do shows
Playafali on my toes, gotta show the world I′m having change
So I bought a candy Cadillac, up on them thangs
Hurting boys mayn, Thugga gotta represent
I stay lit up, behind that five percent tint
Stay bent on the daily, when I'm in the hood
Shining like a superstar, when I grip the wood
Pieced up smelling good, gotta stay fresh
And show the world I′m blessed, everytime my voice up in your deck
Wreck the mic, and I wreck on the 'vard
Every season some'ing hard, coming out my garage
I don′t barred, H-Town repping till I′m dead
From the Tre to the West, to my G's off the ′Stead
Boys out here getting bread, and reaching our goals
Behind tint with the windows closed, when I ride on 4's
Yung world
Here we ride on 4′s
Said we ride on 4's
Blowin heavy dro wittha windows closed
H-town ta the death
107 Hoova I swang ta ma left
Trunk on tha bang
Grippin wood grain
Purp but no stains
Houston texas we from tha hood mane
Nawf till I die
Cage ya on ma mind
Ya baby doin good
Helped ya momma out tha hood
Damn nigga ya missed
Why ya gone like this