Lyrics:
In the life we live as thugs
Everybody fuckin' wit' us so can't you see
It's hard to be a man
Ridin' wit' my guns in hand
Why explain the game?
and soother
Like ma get looser
When's the last time you had a Don seduce ya
Look here this is rap this ain't Karma Sutra
Now let's ride, baby, let's slide
nothing
Ima Do it MySelf
Let me tell you something
Ima Do it MySelf
Get by wit it, just ride wit it
Get by wit it, just ride wit it
Making my moves myself
laying wit all these leaches
Never solo when I'm sleeping
Either my main or I'm creeping
Even when I'm by myself
I got Nina by my belt
And I be gone
lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right)
Five sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me
Unless you a Bad Boy, and roll
fashion
Simmons name sinamous wit this cash
It's our passion... what!?
[Run]
Yo basically I'm here to rename rap, it ain't rap no more
Call it Simmons
And if you judge him by his cover
Cause you blinded
By Your covers
Then I guess he's just and average joe
That you'll never never know
Mix check
One two
Issa lick
Issa lick
Standing by the pay phone issa lick
Issa lick issa lick
I was running thru the city
Wit my main bitch
Traphouse gon stay lit
Issa lick
Issa lick
Standing by the pay phone issa lick
Issa lick issa lick
I was running thru the city
Wit my main bitch
Traphouse gon stay lit
This ain't a drill but we slide wit the stick
Ain't never gon fade bout no bread or no bitch
Both of em serious
I'm having that shit
If you think
self you ain't scared when I run in
your chick I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apologize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd
know I slide wit the indo
Had to pull the panties aside
I made some space in the ride so she could ride by the window
Baby work up my appetite, she put
I put you on EMPTY.
My nigga got 2 extra clips cause you know we gotta stay cautious.
who ever leaving wit me comin back wit me I ain't takin no
man turned their back Charge it
Your main ting want to go back Charge it
You boy just got shh on the block Charge it
And these man don't want to ride
make up a law
Can't take it no more, niggas is fake to the core
My state pen friends'll leave you broke and naked up north
Bet it all on the Terror
Post Saint Clair Everywhere
Uh
Rest In Peace
I hope you rest in piss
Battle rap on the tv
I’m finna talk my shit
Sell a lie wit no receipt
Tryna put
no better
By the Count on hand I got like 8 friends
When they cut it close that's when You break ends
I can not vibe wit em never slide wit Em
Unless
I'm goin' off
Not even held up by a hurricane
Rap is like traffic, and I'm in the turning lane
You could have a nametag, and I still don't know your
Joe
Man, 7.62, turn him G.I. Jane
It's that Rick Owen boot, they be knee-high, man
Now when I look down you know I can't see my ankle
Man, she
know (Look)
Name a place that I won't go. That's a code game for the wrong folks
Representing my own coast. I'm a dope brand with a low slope
And no joe
Roch'
Can't forget Westchester
Can't forget umm CL, hit me off
Feel the funk by the rap czars in sports cars
Comin atcha now you listen at the feet
When the lights shut off
And it's my turn to settle down
My main concern
Promise that you will sing about me
Promise that you will sing about me
Joe
We tryna, no we tryna rap-rap
Let's take it back-back
Ya dig!
Hehehehe
Live from the Nawfside, slide with the Game Team
Vibe with the most fly,
to go slide
I call up my lil one
He gone hop in the ride wit a stick and a pistol
You take one of mine we slide forever
I'm bout to go dive
Her pussy
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