Ride Til' We Die Lyrics
| Song | Ride Til' We Die |
| Artist | C-BO |
| Album | Enemy of the State |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : 151, C BO, Mob Figgas | |
| (feat. 151, Mob Figgas) | |
| And we be blastin, smashin for the loot | |
| I, empty my strap and then I dash to my Coupe | |
| Ain't no half-steppin, it's West Coast til I die | |
| Keepin the bundle and never fumble my 4-5 | |
| With only one life to live, nigga we're still ridin | |
| We attack and murder and watch the scrilla multiply | |
| Fuck the funkity-five, big business and expeditions | |
| If I die when I ride, don't leave shit to them bitches | |
| I raise my right hand with a Tek and my left I swear I'll ride | |
| Til my death or touch collide, til my judgment, til I rest | |
| I'll be that gun smooth assassin, run with trues for blastin | |
| Snatchin up money bags in organised crime fashion | |
| Mafioso's mashin, the homicides is askin: | |
| "Who did thew blastin? Was is it the Mob Figgas mashin?" | |
| Ridin with no maskets, jobs can't be soppy | |
| Grippin the bail with the doves to bust you with my tongue | |
| Now I'm a savage young nigga witta chopper | |
| Motivated by Mob-type tactics, I'll blow your block up | |
| ???? sip to Cosby, out the game everytime | |
| Me and the Mob Figgas'll do the dirt and choke the 9's straight | |
| Savage's up on the crime, but a cross and dwelling lavishly | |
| Fuck some animosity but I might just cause a casualty | |
| Cos Boo the Hustler and Bo-Loc'll show ya, smell the aroma | |
| We gon' ride til we die, ain't no glory in lettin it slide | |
| [Chorus:] | |
| For all you punks that never heard of these | |
| And all you buster motherfuckers that wanna murder, these niggas | |
| We ridin til we die | |
| Ain't lettin shit slide, dumpin 4-5's, ridin til we die | |
| [repeat] | |
| ???? ???? California, I'm best ta warn ya you'll end up like Freddy | |
| Fuckin with my 'fetti, we mobbin three-deep in Chevy | |
| AP-9, Bo and I rider, we pull licks | |
| On a bitch, haven't you heard, we gets perved and hit the strip | |
| Pitch black tint, ain't takin no mo' shit | |
| Gotta get these niggas with my chop and hit the block and suit their knots | |
| And leave their whole block chalked up, got closed off of 4-54's | |
| They hit the block and then I got gone | |
| I'm never gang-related but dedicated to my niggas | |
| My niggas be killers, drug-dealers and ho killers | |
| Mackers in jackets, po' pimps, 9 packers | |
| Got these ballers in *?scallers?*, livin lawless, my niggas' flawless | |
| Niggas with knowledge represent in grounds of college | |
| White Acura coupes, pimpin hoes and stackin loot | |
| How much scrilla can I hustle up? Foldin my figures | |
| Dottin my decimals with commas behind my O's, so.... | |
| You see gangs never work out the way I planned | |
| Cos I hustle all night, black eyes from gang fights | |
| A mad nigga's drama and addicted to street life | |
| I sold this paradise, sippin this game and pay the price | |
| I watch the sun glisten off this ice, caught you slippin | |
| Uzi, Mac and a jacker, young thief in the night | |
| Dangerous minds still lookin for a sign to reclude | |
| As to what the fuck I'm pissed to do | |
| If this rap game don't ??? for me, life might as well stop for me | |
| Give in to failin from 2-11's so niggas call me *?Jagger?* | |
| Ridin til I die on you bastards | |
| [Chorus] | |
| We ridin practice on swell, pushin luxury with no els | |
| Floss je-wels, Professional Baller, all about the dollars | |
| And when you holler, we hit like pits, attackin collars | |
| Ridin with the 4-5, I'm shady and connivin | |
| Choose dyin before I be a punk to this shit | |
| Dump when you funk when you with the clip cos if you slide, then you slip | |
| Hollow tips rip chests, til confetti turn branch to spaghetti | |
| Smash off like Andretti, are you ready? | |
| It ain't no runnin in a war, we're hardcore | |
| Steadily toe-taggin bodies, yeah, we're dyin some mo' | |
| No respect to dump Tek's, smashin in Apollo Supersports | |
| Cashin em out dollar stretch from Cali to New York | |
| On a mission from mail, court and million dollar bails | |
| Diamond je-wels, pushin 500 SL's | |
| I'm just a born killer, cap peeler for my scrilla | |
| Forever ride, nigga, until I get a hundred milla's | |
| I'm ready to ride so slide, so need the pistol | |
| Launch em like missiles as they shatter like crystals | |
| I heard Bo whistle, it's time to move out | |
| This mo' clear, we disappear and punch the big shootouts | |
| Another slaughter, you're block was blown clear out the water | |
| I land in your soldiers like dickin your daughter | |
| Don't bother beggin me for no forgiveness | |
| I'm in this to win this and takin care of business | |
| A witness to these murderous conspiracies | |
| Will be found, dead to the ground and chopped with Glocks on both their | |
| Knees | |
| So please don't sweat the technique, it's the way I was trained | |
| Murder men dictatin minds like Hitler dumpin Hussein | |
| I bring the pain, til I will remain the top ace | |
| Make you kiss my pinky ring then smack him dead in his face | |
| Cos I'm a RIDEAH......(and we'll just slide up and dump) |
| zuo ci : 151, C BO, Mob Figgas | |
| feat. 151, Mob Figgas | |
| And we be blastin, smashin for the loot | |
| I, empty my strap and then I dash to my Coupe | |
| Ain' t no halfsteppin, it' s West Coast til I die | |
| Keepin the bundle and never fumble my 45 | |
| With only one life to live, nigga we' re still ridin | |
| We attack and murder and watch the scrilla multiply | |
| Fuck the funkityfive, big business and expeditions | |
| If I die when I ride, don' t leave shit to them bitches | |
| I raise my right hand with a Tek and my left I swear I' ll ride | |
| Til my death or touch collide, til my judgment, til I rest | |
| I' ll be that gun smooth assassin, run with trues for blastin | |
| Snatchin up money bags in organised crime fashion | |
| Mafioso' s mashin, the homicides is askin: | |
| " Who did thew blastin? Was is it the Mob Figgas mashin?" | |
| Ridin with no maskets, jobs can' t be soppy | |
| Grippin the bail with the doves to bust you with my tongue | |
| Now I' m a savage young nigga witta chopper | |
| Motivated by Mobtype tactics, I' ll blow your block up | |
| ???? sip to Cosby, out the game everytime | |
| Me and the Mob Figgas' ll do the dirt and choke the 9' s straight | |
| Savage' s up on the crime, but a cross and dwelling lavishly | |
| Fuck some animosity but I might just cause a casualty | |
| Cos Boo the Hustler and BoLoc' ll show ya, smell the aroma | |
| We gon' ride til we die, ain' t no glory in lettin it slide | |
| Chorus: | |
| For all you punks that never heard of these | |
| And all you buster motherfuckers that wanna murder, these niggas | |
| We ridin til we die | |
| Ain' t lettin shit slide, dumpin 45' s, ridin til we die | |
| repeat | |
| ???? nbsp???? California, I' m best ta warn ya you' ll end up like Freddy | |
| Fuckin with my ' fetti, we mobbin threedeep in Chevy | |
| AP9, Bo and I rider, we pull licks | |
| On a bitch, haven' t you heard, we gets perved and hit the strip | |
| Pitch black tint, ain' t takin no mo' shit | |
| Gotta get these niggas with my chop and hit the block and suit their knots | |
| And leave their whole block chalked up, got closed off of 454' s | |
| They hit the block and then I got gone | |
| I' m never gangrelated but dedicated to my niggas | |
| My niggas be killers, drugdealers and ho killers | |
| Mackers in jackets, po' pimps, 9 packers | |
| Got these ballers in ? scallers?, livin lawless, my niggas' flawless | |
| Niggas with knowledge represent in grounds of college | |
| White Acura coupes, pimpin hoes and stackin loot | |
| How much scrilla can I hustle up? Foldin my figures | |
| Dottin my decimals with commas behind my O' s, so.... | |
| You see gangs never work out the way I planned | |
| Cos I hustle all night, black eyes from gang fights | |
| A mad nigga' s drama and addicted to street life | |
| I sold this paradise, sippin this game and pay the price | |
| I watch the sun glisten off this ice, caught you slippin | |
| Uzi, Mac and a jacker, young thief in the night | |
| Dangerous minds still lookin for a sign to reclude | |
| As to what the fuck I' m pissed to do | |
| If this rap game don' t nbsp??? for me, life might as well stop for me | |
| Give in to failin from 211' s so niggas call me ? Jagger? | |
| Ridin til I die on you bastards | |
| Chorus | |
| We ridin practice on swell, pushin luxury with no els | |
| Floss jewels, Professional Baller, all about the dollars | |
| And when you holler, we hit like pits, attackin collars | |
| Ridin with the 45, I' m shady and connivin | |
| Choose dyin before I be a punk to this shit | |
| Dump when you funk when you with the clip cos if you slide, then you slip | |
| Hollow tips rip chests, til confetti turn branch to spaghetti | |
| Smash off like Andretti, are you ready? | |
| It ain' t no runnin in a war, we' re hardcore | |
| Steadily toetaggin bodies, yeah, we' re dyin some mo' | |
| No respect to dump Tek' s, smashin in Apollo Supersports | |
| Cashin em out dollar stretch from Cali to New York | |
| On a mission from mail, court and million dollar bails | |
| Diamond jewels, pushin 500 SL' s | |
| I' m just a born killer, cap peeler for my scrilla | |
| Forever ride, nigga, until I get a hundred milla' s | |
| I' m ready to ride so slide, so need the pistol | |
| Launch em like missiles as they shatter like crystals | |
| I heard Bo whistle, it' s time to move out | |
| This mo' clear, we disappear and punch the big shootouts | |
| Another slaughter, you' re block was blown clear out the water | |
| I land in your soldiers like dickin your daughter | |
| Don' t bother beggin me for no forgiveness | |
| I' m in this to win this and takin care of business | |
| A witness to these murderous conspiracies | |
| Will be found, dead to the ground and chopped with Glocks on both their | |
| Knees | |
| So please don' t sweat the technique, it' s the way I was trained | |
| Murder men dictatin minds like Hitler dumpin Hussein | |
| I bring the pain, til I will remain the top ace | |
| Make you kiss my pinky ring then smack him dead in his face | |
| Cos I' m a RIDEAH...... and we' ll just slide up and dump |
| zuò cí : 151, C BO, Mob Figgas | |
| feat. 151, Mob Figgas | |
| And we be blastin, smashin for the loot | |
| I, empty my strap and then I dash to my Coupe | |
| Ain' t no halfsteppin, it' s West Coast til I die | |
| Keepin the bundle and never fumble my 45 | |
| With only one life to live, nigga we' re still ridin | |
| We attack and murder and watch the scrilla multiply | |
| Fuck the funkityfive, big business and expeditions | |
| If I die when I ride, don' t leave shit to them bitches | |
| I raise my right hand with a Tek and my left I swear I' ll ride | |
| Til my death or touch collide, til my judgment, til I rest | |
| I' ll be that gun smooth assassin, run with trues for blastin | |
| Snatchin up money bags in organised crime fashion | |
| Mafioso' s mashin, the homicides is askin: | |
| " Who did thew blastin? Was is it the Mob Figgas mashin?" | |
| Ridin with no maskets, jobs can' t be soppy | |
| Grippin the bail with the doves to bust you with my tongue | |
| Now I' m a savage young nigga witta chopper | |
| Motivated by Mobtype tactics, I' ll blow your block up | |
| ???? sip to Cosby, out the game everytime | |
| Me and the Mob Figgas' ll do the dirt and choke the 9' s straight | |
| Savage' s up on the crime, but a cross and dwelling lavishly | |
| Fuck some animosity but I might just cause a casualty | |
| Cos Boo the Hustler and BoLoc' ll show ya, smell the aroma | |
| We gon' ride til we die, ain' t no glory in lettin it slide | |
| Chorus: | |
| For all you punks that never heard of these | |
| And all you buster motherfuckers that wanna murder, these niggas | |
| We ridin til we die | |
| Ain' t lettin shit slide, dumpin 45' s, ridin til we die | |
| repeat | |
| ???? nbsp???? California, I' m best ta warn ya you' ll end up like Freddy | |
| Fuckin with my ' fetti, we mobbin threedeep in Chevy | |
| AP9, Bo and I rider, we pull licks | |
| On a bitch, haven' t you heard, we gets perved and hit the strip | |
| Pitch black tint, ain' t takin no mo' shit | |
| Gotta get these niggas with my chop and hit the block and suit their knots | |
| And leave their whole block chalked up, got closed off of 454' s | |
| They hit the block and then I got gone | |
| I' m never gangrelated but dedicated to my niggas | |
| My niggas be killers, drugdealers and ho killers | |
| Mackers in jackets, po' pimps, 9 packers | |
| Got these ballers in ? scallers?, livin lawless, my niggas' flawless | |
| Niggas with knowledge represent in grounds of college | |
| White Acura coupes, pimpin hoes and stackin loot | |
| How much scrilla can I hustle up? Foldin my figures | |
| Dottin my decimals with commas behind my O' s, so.... | |
| You see gangs never work out the way I planned | |
| Cos I hustle all night, black eyes from gang fights | |
| A mad nigga' s drama and addicted to street life | |
| I sold this paradise, sippin this game and pay the price | |
| I watch the sun glisten off this ice, caught you slippin | |
| Uzi, Mac and a jacker, young thief in the night | |
| Dangerous minds still lookin for a sign to reclude | |
| As to what the fuck I' m pissed to do | |
| If this rap game don' t nbsp??? for me, life might as well stop for me | |
| Give in to failin from 211' s so niggas call me ? Jagger? | |
| Ridin til I die on you bastards | |
| Chorus | |
| We ridin practice on swell, pushin luxury with no els | |
| Floss jewels, Professional Baller, all about the dollars | |
| And when you holler, we hit like pits, attackin collars | |
| Ridin with the 45, I' m shady and connivin | |
| Choose dyin before I be a punk to this shit | |
| Dump when you funk when you with the clip cos if you slide, then you slip | |
| Hollow tips rip chests, til confetti turn branch to spaghetti | |
| Smash off like Andretti, are you ready? | |
| It ain' t no runnin in a war, we' re hardcore | |
| Steadily toetaggin bodies, yeah, we' re dyin some mo' | |
| No respect to dump Tek' s, smashin in Apollo Supersports | |
| Cashin em out dollar stretch from Cali to New York | |
| On a mission from mail, court and million dollar bails | |
| Diamond jewels, pushin 500 SL' s | |
| I' m just a born killer, cap peeler for my scrilla | |
| Forever ride, nigga, until I get a hundred milla' s | |
| I' m ready to ride so slide, so need the pistol | |
| Launch em like missiles as they shatter like crystals | |
| I heard Bo whistle, it' s time to move out | |
| This mo' clear, we disappear and punch the big shootouts | |
| Another slaughter, you' re block was blown clear out the water | |
| I land in your soldiers like dickin your daughter | |
| Don' t bother beggin me for no forgiveness | |
| I' m in this to win this and takin care of business | |
| A witness to these murderous conspiracies | |
| Will be found, dead to the ground and chopped with Glocks on both their | |
| Knees | |
| So please don' t sweat the technique, it' s the way I was trained | |
| Murder men dictatin minds like Hitler dumpin Hussein | |
| I bring the pain, til I will remain the top ace | |
| Make you kiss my pinky ring then smack him dead in his face | |
| Cos I' m a RIDEAH...... and we' ll just slide up and dump |
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