lirik lagu boss hogg outlawz – ride on 4’s
(talking:)
ha-ha, h-town say
(j-dawg:)
i got my lac sitting low, like a honda civic
hundred sack of that dro, got a g lifted
and the way i work the grain, gotta be gifted
dipping, in and out of traffic swiftly
tipsy, off drank but no beers here
i got a tre, and a twenty ounce root beer
muddy, like a motherf–king hog pen
banging pac “makaveli”, play that number eight again
time go by, puffing on high
i’m feeling too fly, and that ain’t even high
see i’s a gangsta n-gg-, i shoot or shank a n-gg-
but it’s some’ing about them sw-ngas, that’ll change a n-gg-
have you chunking the deuce up, to a stranger n-gg-
you shining harder than a b-tch, he don’t blame you n-gg-
who could blame you n-gg-, you doing the d-mn thang
staying true to the game, you deserve to sw-ng
(hook:)
behind that five percent, windows never go down
music never go down, my n-gg- say slow down
keep driving, p-ss that dro
tip slow while you ride on 4’s, when we ride on 4’s
(j-dawg:)
hit your breaks homie, let the third light glow
sw-ng open the do’, let em smell the dro
naw we ain’t capping, that there for them b-tches
we grinding hard as f–k, and riding on our riches
sh-t the fam good, the kids good
so why not grip wood through the hood n-gg-, come on now
kush got me gone now, i don’t smoke the stress
i been blessed, so if it’s in the air it’s the best
and if it’s in my cup, it’s that purple
got me flipping through the hood, riding in a circle
no destination, n-gg- just riding
big mothership gliding, motor on siding
that’s what it is, what could be better
send a couple pictures of the slab, in the letters
to my n-gg-z in the penn, i’ma hold you down
show the whole unit, how we do in h-town n-gg- yeah
(hook x2)
(slim thug:)
i’m rolling on 4’s, with the windows closed
dro smoke up out my nose, letting the trunk do shows
playafali on my toes, gotta show the world i’m having change
so i bought a candy cadillac, up on them thangs
hurting boys mayn, thugga gotta represent
i stay lit up, behind that five percent tint
stay bent on the daily, when i’m in the hood
shining like a superstar, when i grip the wood
pieced up smelling good, gotta stay fresh
and show the world i’m blessed, everytime my voice up in your deck
wreck the mic, and i wreck on the ‘vard
every season some’ing hard, coming out my garage
i don’t barred, h-town repping till i’m dead
from the tre to the west, to my g’s off the ‘stead
boys out here getting bread, and reaching our goals
behind tint with the windows closed, when i ride on 4’s
(hook x2)
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