Who Ryde Songtext / Lyric

Here it is y'all, right here

Lyrics let the nigga join that demon shit

So I guess... I just have to join that game

Damn I've admired every touch of that shit

Come on with me



Tack me baby, get me up, H-Nigga in the front

Me trade and me packed and me stay strapped

Bail and hangin, doin' a little gang with my niggaz

While we flirt with some skirts, you know, some herpes

But we stay with it, yeah, we flip it

We find us, a motherfuckin' Chevy then we dip it

Then they asked me: why you're in the game?

Rollin' S-class, helpin' Kokane






Yeah, see you're lookin' at my hoochie it's about that time

That me rollin' with my clique

Pimp Clinic hittin' Dolo sticks

Cause bitches be sayin: Aiy, Mr. Gold Wire player

Won't come out to be my whore layer

Nah bitch, I be sittin' at the Dr. Coffee

Hatin' for the snow to roll in or split in

It's Kokane A.K.A. the black hopper

Surrounded by the black gangsters with triple beamers

Cause sometimes it gets so hard to slang your style

What you said Km.G?



Chocolate Nuts

What you got Km.G?

Big brown Chocolate Nuts

What we got Km.G?



Chocolate Nuts

And I'm lookin' for them hookers with them big Chocolate butts

Take up get naked while we laugh about my jail record

Diggin' the drawers girl, so check it

As I flow watch my bottom drop

And I be fillin' my tap, hittin' you up on your block



Hard hard hard, hard hard hard, hard hard hard

Everyday there's a change



They wanna stop Gangster Rap but they're kind of late

Cause I've been kickin' Gangster shit for seven years straight

And best believe makin' the end

Ugh, puttin' in work for my niggaz in the Pen'

Cause see, once upon a time I had a cabin sack

I start flossin' and flossin' and never got tracked

Smokin' weed everyday

And make the funky beats for my niggaz around the way

Yeah, now I think I'm worked millions

And your white folks mad cause I'm sellin' to your childrens

By the house and by the key

They don't wanna be like Mike, they wanna be like me

What's happenin' in the ghetto ain't happenin' anywhere

And upon California not any where

So boo yaa, boo yaa, boo yaa, what's happenin' partner?

Ugh, I'm all in this track and I'm a break you off somethin' proper

Cause I'm the C-O-L-D, original 187 in the place to be

So when you see me, you better give me my props

Or get popped by the .44 and land out in Shot sippin'

And for me, see that's a promise, I ain't trippin'

Boy, I'm just honost, ugh



Hard hard hard, hard hard hard, hard hard hard

Everyday there's a change



I kick back, relax, cause I'm fat and all that

When I attack, it's like a swing of the Baseball bat

Known to force me, cause I live my life coastly

If I had a ringer I'll be around rosily

Lived my early years straight like a Hoodlum

No time for women cause I've never understood that

They wanted to hold me, stretch me in Coupe De

Rather have my forties than just prove at my Hoopty

Comin' down your block, your street, comin' down your avenue

Check that gratitude, check my attitude

You wanna run up, you got your gun up

Fool, what's up? - Shit, your bet not even hick up

Cause if you do, I'm break your jaw

Loc, Kokane and Above the Law

Puttin' in work like some more Vietnam vets

What we set, gettin' more more respects

But residentials as individuals sad as pitiful

That you can get a hook

Of Tone Loc kickin' that raw shit for your life

West Side Swap Meet, and Black Mafia Life



Hard hard hard, hard hard hard, hard hard hard

Everyday there's a change