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letra de ridin foreign - gucci mane

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-young chop on the beat. band camp.-

[hook]

i touch a lotta paper, i been havin this sh-t
i got a bookbag full of hundreds, i been stashin this sh-t
private jet to las vegas, i’ve been gambling and sh-t
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (we ain’t the average clique)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)

[verse 1]

gimme the keys to the van, fi-fi-fifty keys in the van
you can bleed in the van, you can leave in the van
take a chance with the man, then i’m squeezin my hand (ha!)
but the man in the back ain’t part of the clan
slapped him with the gun ’bout as hard as i can
took the dope out the van then i ran with the bands
if a n-gga try to follow, find his head in the trash
smash on your -ss, i’ll blast at your -ss
100-yard dash in the gr-ss for the cash
brick and a carbon-15 in the stash
but he still got found with his brains on the dash (ew!)
you a big bullet, was a fool in the past
f-ck that n-gga, i ain’t cool with his -ss
two bags of the gas, now the wolves on his -ss
f-ck around with gucci mane get some holes in his -ss
fifty goons on me when i came to the bash
po-po-point a n-gga out that you want me to smash
two size of the trap, put the trash on the track
if that the only son track then it might be a crash
yellow ice, white ice, little sh-tty gl-ss
swear it’s so sick that i might have a rash
rollin a blunt while i’m hittin it from the back
where your name tag at while i’m dumpin the ash

[hook]

i touch a lotta paper, i been havin this sh-t
i got a bookbag full of hundreds, i been stashin this sh-t
private jet to las vegas, i’ve been gambling and sh-t
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (we ain’t the average clique)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)

[verse 2]
hahn!
i can’t even lie, i’m in my own lane (gucci!)
talk so much sh-t cause i got my own slang (huh?)
bricksquad is my own squad, i got my own gang (squad!)
stamps on the bricks, got my own ‘caine (gucci!)
you n-ggas followers, don’t got they own brain (durr…)
tr-trickin off but won’t take care of they own kids (d-mn…)
this gucci mane and people say i’m on drugs (true)
i tell them people “go get on your own d-ck”
when you the boss nig-guh you make your own rules
i’m the only n-gga that don’t need no cosigner
and my suede shoes match my suede headliner
and my closet filled with the top designers

[hook]

i touch a lotta paper, i been havin this sh-t
i got a bookbag full of hundreds, i been stashin this sh-t
private jet to las vegas, i’ve been gambling and sh-t
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (we ain’t the average clique)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ridin foreign, ridin foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)
and i’m in love with ridin foreign (ride-ride foreign)

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