• А
  • Б
  • В
  • Г
  • Д
  • Е
  • Ж
  • З
  • И
  • К
  • Л
  • М
  • Н
  • О
  • П
  • Р
  • С
  • Т
  • У
  • Ф
  • Х
  • Ц
  • Ч
  • Ш
  • Э
  • Ю
  • Я
  • A
  • B
  • C
  • D
  • E
  • F
  • G
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • L
  • M
  • N
  • O
  • P
  • Q
  • R
  • S
  • T
  • U
  • V
  • W
  • X
  • Y
  • Z
  • #
  • Текст песни Xzibit - Ride Or Die

    Просмотров: 9
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
    0 чел. считают текст песни неверным
    Тут находится текст песни Xzibit - Ride Or Die, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    (feat. Tone)

    [Chorus]

    We just ride and get high, 'til the sun cracks the sky

    Keep that heat by my side, that's how gangsters get by

    Cause it's an eye for an eye, when I bust you that's fly

    My gun never been shy, that's how gangsters get by

    It's either ride or die...

    [Verse 1: Xzibit]

    ... we just boogy, advance

    The rubber band stack thick in my pants

    Real gangsters make plots and plans and touch dirt

    Only prayin for the day when they can wash they hands

    Real gangsters leave nothin to chance at first glance

    If it ain't a sho' thing then you bet' not swing

    Real gangsters keep that Cutlass clean, keep the monsters mean

    And when you dump it drop it right at the scene

    Real gangsters got a gangsta lean

    You might not talk red, black, or blue but everybody talk green

    Glance to my left look over my right shoulder

    Livin life in my rearview, FUCK stayin sober

    Forget back I sit back and wait for the click-clack

    Real gangsters want real spit so I spit that

    Real gangsters don't even say it

    They just hit the trunk cock it and spray it

    Light up your Christmas! Yeah!

    [Chorus]

    [Verse 2: Xzibit]

    ... and don't slip up

    It's way too late when the bodybags zip up

    Real gangsters pray for they soul when they get up

    You live by the gun but you'll die by that hit up

    Watch that rig up, find yo'self in a box

    in a spot where the cops can't dig up

    Real gangsters ain't just thugs in bandanas

    Slugs and big cannons, drugs and big hammers

    Real gangsters open up ya minds and expand 'em

    Why was Tupac really spittin at the cameras?

    Cause real gangsters get no peace, they want us six feet deep

    or locked down in the belly of the beast

    Real gangsters make bread, rise like yeast

    Won't hesitate to put hot chrome to ya teeth

    So fuck beef! Real gangsters load heat

    When ya see 'em in the street better call the police, c'mon

    [Chorus]

    [Verse 3: Tone]

    ... syndrome is a fear

    that inner-city residents have of they own peers

    People in they own community

    usin a case where two blacks got smoked by one in '93

    And ain't now nigga be the murder case

    Usin and servin survival shit as a defense plea

    In Cali big knot (knot)

    The judicial system out here'll have you level fo' 'til you rot

    It's because of the system we violence stricken

    Forced to frequent the zone when the reefer's driftin

    And it's hella drift cause in Southeast Danglewood

    Damn near, 30 years of Bloodin and Crippin

    And we inflicted with a disease mo' trip than an H-I-V

    Can't nuthin protect you from a hundred, drummer 2-2-3's

    You can call the police

    Wear a V-E-S-T but forget about safety

    [Chorus]

    Опрос: Верный ли текст песни?
    ДаНет