(To) (to) (to)

(To the tic)

(To the tic-tic) --> Slick Rick



Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah

Kurupt Young Gotti

Hell yeah



Raw Dawg

You know

You know me

Raw Dawg Assassin

Comin atcha, baby

Cat, kick it in

Kick it in



[ VERSE 1 ]

Pull up...

Soon as I park shit sparks

Spit fire, gangbang affiliation, retalitation

Spit sparks till shit's dark forever

What's up, homie

Why you walkin up on me?

Postin up in the shade

We can draw or get paid

You ain't movin not a thing, homeboy

Click em with automatics and automatic toys

Bounce, rock, rollerskatin

Dippin down the streets on platinum Daytons

(Yo, what up?)

I'm just a gee

Oh yeah, that's me

Don't forget it

Act like you knew it 'fore I set it

I put the needle on top of the wax

Before I turn around

And burn everything to the ground

I seen it comin

A fool over to the right gunnin

The homies whistled

We all draw pistols



[ CHORUS ]

Gotta stay in charge

Gotta play my cards

On the grind all day, babe

Oh, gots to get paid



[ VERSE 2 ]

You got a stash to hid, you got some hash to hit?

Cash to get, glocks to pop and shit

(What you talkin bout?) Everybody's got questions and shit

(Hey yo, what's up with...?) Muthafuckas questionin shit

(Shut the fuck up, homie) Worryin bout me and my wife

(My wife) All I wanna do is live my life

(That's all) Raise up off me, homie

(Yeah) Ease back softly, homie

(Check it out) I'm a gee from the D.P.G.

And no matter what you say, you can't fuck with me

Hey loco, I see you wanna loc out

Coastin, movin in locomotion

In the cut dippin, the homeboys trippin

Spittin, waitin for a shot to get called

The homie spit a plot to us

Then passed the 16-shots to us



Uh-u-uh

Uh-u-uh

Uh-u-uh



[ VERSE 3 ]

I got scams for hundreds of gramms

Me and my man, me and my pistol, a plan

For about a

Whole ki load of some powder

Stashin, dippin, dashin, smashin, tryin to cash in

>From the front to the back, and packin

Pull the strap and start clappin

I'm about to move a little somethin

A little sumptin-sumpin

For the homie, pack the pump and get to dumpin

Hit the liquor store, I wanna get paid

A fifth of Hen, then back to the shade

What you got, smoke, loc, let's blaze up

Let me get a toke, loc, and let's raise up

Punks stop and get popped when funk pop

I'm worldwide while you thinkin: either he is or he's not

International like [???]

You can feel me

In the real way



[ CHORUS ]



Bitches, get your ride on, on



Kurupt Young Gotti

Raw Dawg



Just get your ride on

Just get your ride on, homie



My nigga Battlecat

Ha-ha



Just get your ride on, homie



(To the tic-tic

And you don't quit

Hit it)



This is for the riders

Riders

The riders



Hustlers

Hustlers

The hustlers



This is the one, baby!



(Tic-toc)

(Ya) (ya) (ya don't)

(Ya) (ya) (ya) (ya don't stop) (stop) (stop)

Bitch