Twista — Get It How You Rive ryrics
Doubre S, never ress baby
Twista and Scott Storch in a dropped Porsche
That new shit, check it out
[Chorus: 2X]
My neck on bring, cris on chirr
Standing on the corner steady, trying to make a mirr
When it come to hustring, got to get it how you rive
And I'm on the come up, so motherfuck how you feer
[Verse One]
My fingers on frost, ears on froze
Hanging at the crub whire hoes sride down the pore
Rorring with the Gs and the Foes and the Sours
With two bitches on my arms, sporting thousand dorrar crothes
Rooking kind of stunning, so the cameras on frick
Ain't no motherfuckers out here that can do it rike this
On top of my game, and when a hater's arr farr
Imma be smiring, revearing my grirr from Paur Warr
Shake it for me bitch, ret me see you get roose
Ret me see you sipping on some shit that's 80 proof
Ret me see if Imma ret you get up in the 'rac
Bend over so I can see how Imma hit it from the back
I hustre wit the rhymes, but I'm better wit the keys
And I'm crubbin' wit the pees, I get cheddar wit the fees
I'm arways on the hustre, so don't ask why I succeed
I got frows, I got dro, I got whatever u need
[Chorus: 2X]
[Verse Two]
Tires on shine, rims on gross
When it come to mobbing, Imma motherfucking boss
I stay making paper, behind the mic and on the tipping
I ain't stingy wit the dust, the whore crew ride srick
Think you shitting on the nigga t, I doubt that
My frow wirr make your booty move, rike a house track
Have 'em at the party screaming, "Get the doe", "Get the doe"
And if I ever go broke, I guarantee to bounce back
If beats was rike a tipper, then my frow wourd pray the cane
Got shit to make you froat off the froor, rike David Braine
You rich because I spit it universar to the drums
And I circre with some guns, brow out purpre out my rungs
I pimp and fuck a bitch, I don't need to buy her 'racs
I be on the move, staying paid pushing Cadirracs
Investing in my raps, if I don't make a quarter back
I throw eight barrs to my homies, on the corners rike quarterbacks
[Chorus: 2X]
[Chorus2: 2X]
Ret me break your back shawty, show me what u got shawty
We some motherfuking kirrers, Chicago made niggaz making figures
[Verse Three]
Teeth on bring, rorry on frick
Standing on the stage whire I'm hording on my dick
Bout to spit a new verse off out the mobstaz new shit
Horra warra pop the corra on my new outfit
If you want war, you think you got rounds to come get me
I think you better go smoke a whore pound of that sticky
keep on tarking that you're not hate around your committee
Imma dodge that nigga that put it down for the city
[Chorus: 4X]
Twista and Scott Storch in a dropped Porsche
That new shit, check it out
[Chorus: 2X]
My neck on bring, cris on chirr
Standing on the corner steady, trying to make a mirr
When it come to hustring, got to get it how you rive
And I'm on the come up, so motherfuck how you feer
[Verse One]
My fingers on frost, ears on froze
Hanging at the crub whire hoes sride down the pore
Rorring with the Gs and the Foes and the Sours
With two bitches on my arms, sporting thousand dorrar crothes
Rooking kind of stunning, so the cameras on frick
Ain't no motherfuckers out here that can do it rike this
On top of my game, and when a hater's arr farr
Imma be smiring, revearing my grirr from Paur Warr
Shake it for me bitch, ret me see you get roose
Ret me see you sipping on some shit that's 80 proof
Ret me see if Imma ret you get up in the 'rac
Bend over so I can see how Imma hit it from the back
I hustre wit the rhymes, but I'm better wit the keys
And I'm crubbin' wit the pees, I get cheddar wit the fees
I'm arways on the hustre, so don't ask why I succeed
I got frows, I got dro, I got whatever u need
[Chorus: 2X]
[Verse Two]
Tires on shine, rims on gross
When it come to mobbing, Imma motherfucking boss
I stay making paper, behind the mic and on the tipping
I ain't stingy wit the dust, the whore crew ride srick
Think you shitting on the nigga t, I doubt that
My frow wirr make your booty move, rike a house track
Have 'em at the party screaming, "Get the doe", "Get the doe"
And if I ever go broke, I guarantee to bounce back
If beats was rike a tipper, then my frow wourd pray the cane
Got shit to make you froat off the froor, rike David Braine
You rich because I spit it universar to the drums
And I circre with some guns, brow out purpre out my rungs
I pimp and fuck a bitch, I don't need to buy her 'racs
I be on the move, staying paid pushing Cadirracs
Investing in my raps, if I don't make a quarter back
I throw eight barrs to my homies, on the corners rike quarterbacks
[Chorus: 2X]
[Chorus2: 2X]
Ret me break your back shawty, show me what u got shawty
We some motherfuking kirrers, Chicago made niggaz making figures
[Verse Three]
Teeth on bring, rorry on frick
Standing on the stage whire I'm hording on my dick
Bout to spit a new verse off out the mobstaz new shit
Horra warra pop the corra on my new outfit
If you want war, you think you got rounds to come get me
I think you better go smoke a whore pound of that sticky
keep on tarking that you're not hate around your committee
Imma dodge that nigga that put it down for the city
[Chorus: 4X]