Nappy Roots

Nappy Roots - My Ride lyrics

<i>[SKINNY DEVILLE]</i>

feelin easy like its sunday morning steak and eggs

hey livin off some big rims lookin like some blades

play her like a pimp type a nigga aint me

with the tint the 35 percent so ya cant see

fish scales shotgun pass the "L" to big V

flip flop candy lookin so wet it drip drop (shiiiine)

from the tip top chrome double duce

make a bitch stop jaw drop ballin 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

look but dont touch it we commin down I-65

nappy and company (vertical grills) on the cadilac we so real

skinny deville return like a bat out of hell

hell dont ya think nappy roots comin as well

Big V, B. Stille, Prophet, Clutch, and Fish Scales yeaahh

<i>[CHORUS]</i>

My ride be sittin on dem hundred spokes (hundred spokes)

my candy paint straight from the honeycomb (honeycomb)

wood grain interior leather and chrome (leather and chrome)

everybody ride out its on its on (its on its on)

<i>[FISH SCALES]</i>

ay yo thats my cab jumped out leavin a tab

hold on man we'll discuss that later

B. jumped out like (fuck that hater)

fell in the aspen rotten like martin

two white dudes one looked like matt harprin

later on he's eatin and ball in cleavland

and I jumped out like fuck your season

van dam woke up in the grand am

real hot no air for the car jam

twenty inches ride both on probes

look nice chevrolet on pipes

keep chevy tint that twinkle so bright

B.O.B im'a ball on budget

pumped out two thou on the 89 cutlass (biiitch)

nah you cant ride im selfish

aint too many ho's wanna touch this velvet

<i>[CHORUS]</i>

<i>[B. STILLE.]</i>

hop in with me we bout to leave

you gotta pop it I drope a dollar in ya pocket

gas up the crotch rocket pass up the cops blocked it

(hey B. Stille can I role with you and Prophet)

extra clean you cant tell me nean

drop the top showin off for the summa

the cadilac stretch on dem bow legged stillets

where the candy paint sets like a wet cigarette

bubble coat primers chrome spiders inside us

big enough for my team and a couple of trainers

but it hold no minors thats major

wood grain and ya get deep beaters big features

feel 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 lean

out the window pane you hear the country boy sang

<i>[CHORUS]</i>

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