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Who wanna ride?! |
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Who wanna ride?! |
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Who wanna ride?! |
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It's a Saturday afternoon on the |
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EastsideMashin' in the bucket, sippin' on formeldahyde |
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Pockets lookin' sore so you know |
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I gotta go |
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Pull a 2-11 on the neighborhood sto' |
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Mash on the gas, then |
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I hit the pavement |
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Jumped out the bucket, headed straight in |
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Told the f**kin' clerk, put the money on the table |
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I'm a lunatic and my mind is unstable |
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He stuttered like a bitch |
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Tryin' to stop the hit |
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Shakin' like a twig |
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So you know |
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I dumped the clip!16 shots left his body on the flo' |
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Break the register, took the money, and |
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I brokeOut the f**kin' back do' straight to the bucket |
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Put the money in, start the ride, and |
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I punch it |
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Been from the hood, straight shots in the daylight |
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A normal Saturday for |
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Blaze on the |
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EastsideEvery |
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Saturday afternoon!(Who wanna ride?!) |
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I go robbin' these bitches and hoes!(Who wanna ride?!) |
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Every Saturday afternoon!(Who wanna ride?!) |
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I go robbin' these bitches and hoes! |
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Headed on back the crib to count my dough |
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Got 200 dollars and |
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I'm lookin' for mo''cause |
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I'm greedy and |
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I'm back on the streets |
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Rollin' thru the hood, to another store |
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I creepNow |
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I'm on my feet 'cause the cops is on my tail |
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They wanna see me go to jail with no bail |
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But they can't 'cause |
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I'm rockin' a hoodie |
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A .45 cal. in my waist, so don't push me |
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Same Saturday, still hittin' licks for cash |
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Walked into |
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Carlins, demanded all his stash |
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The sucka talked shit, but filled the bag up |
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Guess he thought his homie in the back was gonna tag him |
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Blaze, and he came out from the back room |
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Runnin' at a dead homie, |
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Blaze, with a broom |
