Lyrics:
gettin leathal an I,
you know the drama boys, down fo life the Suave an I, to the dirt,
drama boys, wit Ball got drama that will work,
make 'em
the top open
In the cold, nuts
From the city of Oakland
Don’t fuck with me
Bitch tell me what you want
When you from the streets
You can never let ‘em
shake em
Roll em, don't throw em
Hand clap, where it's at
Nigga show me somethin'
Out in Sixy, Opa lock, overtime, city buy
You know how we get it
right now (wow) but tell
your story you know the one I like say it for me (Ride, ride, ride)
Riders on the storm (Ride, ride, ride)
Riders on the storm
fingers in her pussy, then
I tell her pussy, "Peace!"
It's Chuckee, she say, "Yo' name Chuckee?"
I said, "No, my name's Suck Me!"
Fuke roll 'em fat, kinda
flex then wreck
So E what's next?
Shazam, let me tell you who I am
The E-R-I-C-K, S-E-R-M-O-N
Call me a lumberjack, or a midland warrior
Doin damage
myself, cuz I don't mess with the people
Rhude shoes on, new shoes on, what'd I tell them
I get in the t-shirts, and I also mail 'em
Planted myself in
Soulja Boy
Pulling up in my new toy
Shoot my shot, Brandon Roy
AND I
Cannot slow down my grind
I'm one of a kind
Tell me what's on your mind
This, is,
the DB?s tell ?em, Wacko lookin' for ?em
I got some dro, I got some change, I got some pussy for ?em
If they ask you where I'm at, I'm in the Melph pickin'
to 'caine
Not what B-dawg said, I respect the game
G-D's, vice lords, crips the same
And I know you're 'bout to say this off the chain
Tell 'em fake
dawgy I ain’t tryna be famous
Correction need my rackaroni while I’m sitting fameless
Yo bitch love my vibe told me you be acting like an anus
Tell em
Soulja Livin' Tru
Soulja Livin' Tru, nigga
Oh, I said that already
Aye
Rap shit hard, but this street shit easy
I gotta trap or die, it got me
the bubble butch
All up in the party swangin' E's and C's
Wit a car full a heat, hope you want my beats
I came to the party dog by myself
Twenty out
boy, I was locked up in them chains for it
My momma know it, I don't do no back and forth
I catch 'em, whack the boy
Got racks, I stay wit' that
to keep a roll of them bitches like which one (one one)
(its the boss)
(radio killer)
Its not a dream baby
(radio killer killer killer)
Or is it a dream
got no creases
They limited, baby, tell me if you've seen 'em
My diamonds dancin', paint her face like Marilyn Manson (Marilyn Manson)
Then roll up
askin' me
Why I don't be hangin' out where they be hangin' out
I tell 'em, I say, "Lil nigga, listen here
If I don't got no business there, I don't got
shoes on ya shit, my nigga
Ayy, roll down ya motherfuckin' window, nigga
Blow out that dro smoke, nigga
And tell that nigga that's how the fuck you
bloody meat
Boy done fuckin' with me, real man, and I done told him
So let's just step out on the block and pd-roll him
Load up the Uzis, turn
Ayy, ayy, yeah
Birds in the trap, they gon' stink by tomorrow
Servin' the Act' out a baby bottle
Don't tell me, "Shut up," you are not my boss
Got a lotta new flames, still need 'em blue
Three hundred fifty thou', times that by two
New Dawn, no roof, I still see the sky
Peace to my
together we stay deep
It's Rob G!
Cheyah!
King of the Streets and I'm roll around Houston ridin' 4's
Boys better chill 'fore this throw-away leave they
the weed come, boys, ain't no refunds
Niggas actin' like a bitch and I'ma eat one
Put the mask on, drop 'em like the last song
It's a Rolls Royce, so I
for?
Damn, they don't make 'em like this anymore
A white boy broke her heart back in high school
Now she told me she ain't takin' white dick anymore
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