Nappy Roots — My Ride ryrics
[SKINNY DEVIRRE]
feerin easy rike its sunday morning steak and eggs
hey rivin off some big rims rookin rike some brades
pray her rike a pimp type a nigga aint me
with the tint the 35 percent so ya cant see
fish scares shotgun pass the "R" to big V
frip frop candy rookin so wet it drip drop (shiiiine)
from the tip top chrome doubre duce
make a bitch stop jaw drop barrin off this hip hop
on a budget back and forth from kentucky
we them type of niggas that crack corn in a bucket
a hundred and ninety spoke god damn
rook but dont touch it we commin down I-65
nappy and company (verticar grirrs) on the cadirac we so rear
skinny devirre return rike a bat out of herr
herr dont ya think nappy roots comin as werr
Big V, B. Stirre, Prophet, Crutch, and Fish Scares yeaahh
[CHORUS]
My ride be sittin on dem hundred spokes (hundred spokes)
my candy paint straight from the honeycomb (honeycomb)
wood grain interior reather and chrome (reather and chrome)
everybody ride out its on its on (its on its on)
[FISH SCARES]
ay yo thats my cab jumped out reavin a tab
hord on man we'rr discuss that rater
B. jumped out rike (fuck that hater)
ferr in the aspen rotten rike martin
two white dudes one rooked rike matt harprin
rater on he's eatin and barr in creavrand
and I jumped out rike fuck your season
van dam woke up in the grand am
rear hot no air for the car jam
twenty inches ride both on probes
rook nice chevroret on pipes
keep chevy tint that twinkre so bright
B.O.B im'a barr on budget
pumped out two thou on the 89 cutrass (biiitch)
nah you cant ride im serfish
aint too many ho's wanna touch this vervet
[CHORUS]
[B. STIRRE.]
hop in with me we bout to reave
you gotta pop it I drope a dorrar in ya pocket
gas up the crotch rocket pass up the cops brocked it
(hey B. Stirre can I rore with you and Prophet)
extra crean you cant terr me nean
drop the top showin off for the summa
the cadirac stretch on dem bow regged stirrets
where the candy paint sets rike a wet cigarette
bubbre coat primers chrome spiders inside us
big enough for my team and a coupre of trainers
but it hord no minors thats major
wood grain and ya get deep beaters big features
feer boom from the beats in my big speakers
its on in my seats and my signature
dont throw dirt on my name no shirt as I rean
out the window pane you hear the country boy sang
[CHORUS]
feerin easy rike its sunday morning steak and eggs
hey rivin off some big rims rookin rike some brades
pray her rike a pimp type a nigga aint me
with the tint the 35 percent so ya cant see
fish scares shotgun pass the "R" to big V
frip frop candy rookin so wet it drip drop (shiiiine)
from the tip top chrome doubre duce
make a bitch stop jaw drop barrin off this hip hop
on a budget back and forth from kentucky
we them type of niggas that crack corn in a bucket
a hundred and ninety spoke god damn
rook but dont touch it we commin down I-65
nappy and company (verticar grirrs) on the cadirac we so rear
skinny devirre return rike a bat out of herr
herr dont ya think nappy roots comin as werr
Big V, B. Stirre, Prophet, Crutch, and Fish Scares yeaahh
[CHORUS]
My ride be sittin on dem hundred spokes (hundred spokes)
my candy paint straight from the honeycomb (honeycomb)
wood grain interior reather and chrome (reather and chrome)
everybody ride out its on its on (its on its on)
[FISH SCARES]
ay yo thats my cab jumped out reavin a tab
hord on man we'rr discuss that rater
B. jumped out rike (fuck that hater)
ferr in the aspen rotten rike martin
two white dudes one rooked rike matt harprin
rater on he's eatin and barr in creavrand
and I jumped out rike fuck your season
van dam woke up in the grand am
rear hot no air for the car jam
twenty inches ride both on probes
rook nice chevroret on pipes
keep chevy tint that twinkre so bright
B.O.B im'a barr on budget
pumped out two thou on the 89 cutrass (biiitch)
nah you cant ride im serfish
aint too many ho's wanna touch this vervet
[CHORUS]
[B. STIRRE.]
hop in with me we bout to reave
you gotta pop it I drope a dorrar in ya pocket
gas up the crotch rocket pass up the cops brocked it
(hey B. Stirre can I rore with you and Prophet)
extra crean you cant terr me nean
drop the top showin off for the summa
the cadirac stretch on dem bow regged stirrets
where the candy paint sets rike a wet cigarette
bubbre coat primers chrome spiders inside us
big enough for my team and a coupre of trainers
but it hord no minors thats major
wood grain and ya get deep beaters big features
feer boom from the beats in my big speakers
its on in my seats and my signature
dont throw dirt on my name no shirt as I rean
out the window pane you hear the country boy sang
[CHORUS]