(Chorus)
I say what I want and do what I want
Hope out the front 'fore i pop out the trunk
Fuck where you from nigga fuck what you done
Cooking that brick and got dope in my lungs
[?], feeling numb from the heat
[?]
Heat on my seat pullin three with no lease
[?]
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
Hop out, Pop out, Ride out
(Verse 1)
I hop out the ville and I hop out the 'rarri young nigga I never say sorry
Seafood I eat on that good calamari, I pop on the wheelie like Harley
We don't play games no Atari, I keep myself strapped when I walk in the party
Keep myself strapped like a car seat, Ciroc on the rocks give a fuck bout Bacardi
Damn, red bottoms my sneaker your bitch is a geeker she suck and she fuck for a t-shirt
Damn, L-L-Like a speaker you niggas so eager like why you so desperate for features?
Damn, I eat her and beat her and skeet her and freak her
Nice to meet her
Slight demeanor
I should feed her
[?]
She's a keeper
(Bridge)
I say what I want and do what I want and I pull out that pump and I hop out the trunk
Take out the [?] either way I'm slumped
Xans and the perky either way I'm numb
Hunnid round drum for my bros in the slums
Purp in my blunt got that purp in my lungs
Coke in her nose she got coke on her gums
Bankroll so big that I can't feel my thumbs
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Two feet while they run up the sack
My niggas relax, we sit in the back
We smoke up the pack, we wrap up the pack
We shippin the pack, you niggas ain't that
You niggas ain't that, you niggas ain't pack
You niggas ain't strapped, you niggas ain't rap
You know I got racks, she know I got racks, he know I got racks, they know I got racks
You niggas just rappin, you niggas just talkin and bumpin your guns, I run up my funds
You niggas just talkin, you niggas is rappin better stop when I'm done and move to the sun
Hunnids and fifties and Jackson's and twenties if I tipped her ones if I tipped her ones
Five on the back like he pack so we tax for them crumbs we tax for them crumbs
Rollie gon' sit on my wrist it gon glisten' on my wrist
It gon tick it gon tock it gon tick it gon tick
Like Jimminy Cricket
You can't tell the difference
You need [?]
Repeat then re-rinse it
I can't be vindictive
Look at my position
Fuck all the traditions
Mixin for commissions
Get it how you livin
Stack yo stash and flip it
Workin like it's fitness
I can't see no limits
(Chorus)
RIDEOUT was written by SANTANA ALI.