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letra de let's ride (them riders) - jim jones

[jim jones](talking)
yea, jones…capo status
you know what this is about! its about riders…
all my states around the countries
all my n-ggas from ghetto to ghetto, my n-ggas ready to ride..
r.i.p biggie smalls this one’s for you..

[chorus 2x: jim jones]
let’s ride, here go some riders, i hope you know the riders
them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
you know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
and get high and just ride

[jim jones]
lock and load the clip, see po-po then slow the whip
big -ss guns in a stolen whip, but if you got weed then roll the sh-t
you rollin with
them rollin dips, straight up weed no poofin these
straight up g’s no doopin me, brazy b’s that shoot up sh-t
major cheese off of movin bricks
from cuttin up rain to shuflin rain
baggin these hoes f-ckin some dames
waking up morning and f-ckin the dame
i’m in restaurants mr. chows, stuntin hard like 50 thou
i keep my goons my n-ggas wild, shootin that thing til ya sh-t go blaow!
the palmin weed can’t come my needs, hatian n-ggas bombin weed
gats mo-mo, techs gon blow, all in these streets
shots with a four pound, ak when it go round
dont play when it go round
in little haiti them n-ggas crazy like “get ’em baby!”

[chorus: jim jones]2x
let’s ride, here go some riders, i hope you know the riders
them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
you know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
and get high and just ride

[jim jones]
call my gang to bust, know you f-gs ain’t dangerous
must be high off angel dust, to think that you can bang wit us hang wit us
tape you to the hood no thang with us, shoot up ya club get ya mangled up
i call my gangstas up, and get ya f-ggot -ss tangled up
now what you b-tches, step on the corner wit a bunch of g’s
tryna dump the heat, while you duck police
me myself i run the streets wit no regard
(they) like “oh my god!”
we just sittin here not to lose, high off weed and lots of booze
call my g’s when i got to move, cause i drop 100 g’s when i copped the coupe
n-ggas round the way tryna take my life, cause i run round the way wit a neck full of ice
gotta bunch of doggs and i set ’em to bite, if you n-ggas want war we can do it tonight
i’m prayin to the lord that optimize, dipset byrdgang know i’ma ride
and i’ma rep til my last breath, take a pull of my last hit
pull up on these n-ggas and blast the b-tch, eastside when i mask the b-tch
we ride on some panther sh-t, gotta go prac, lotta load gats
if a n-ggas run on me then i gotta go back…back…(and we gon ride out and get high)

[chorus 2x: j.r. writer
you know we riders, i hope you know we riders
you think you roll wit liars, you’ll hear them 4’s wit fire
listen lame, i’m insane, to this game, get this flame in ya brain
like “bang bang bang bang…”

[j.r. writer]
yo, who is realer than us? we’ll turn jailors to sl-ts
i’m too real chill, you can’t inhale what i puff
peep it duke, me to you’s, like a whale to a gup
keep ya chuck taylors, i’ma go taylor my chucks
you’ll get whaled on the snuck, gat for ice, match it twice
f-ggot dyk-, mag to bite, there go ya appet-te
my n-ggas blast the pipe, black ya lights, flag the kite
shout to my man t-to lino facin natural life
i’m just natural nice
you’s hermaphrodite, my man zeke be home 3 n-gga p-ss the kite (freeky!)
this the facts of life, facts of ice, scr-p ya right
cabbage sliced, matchin chain, matchin nikes
you’s a coward please, i keep the power squeezed
creep this thunder’ll leave you under them flower trees
i done crowd the pease, wit about a thousand keys
ask about me, i ain’t gotta break a smile to cheese

- jim jones

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