Ridin’ Round

[Intro:]
American Psycho 2, Red Cafe
LA Lakers and who care
Shout to the boy Shyne too on this one
Po wadup!

[Verse 1:]
I'm riding round in that Bugatti my dogs safe and my toolie on me
My head Lous and Illuminati gangly hoolie on me
I ain't playing these kid games, my head be cocked and my cig. Banged
Put 50 shots in your rib cage D.O is A
On the freeway like i'm Rock man, hammering in big my vans
Fast keys, fast keys tell the federales to come get man
I ain't worried bout his bae i'm getting mine,and i'm busy
They be false alarm but I blasé [?]
I ba-hall like wa-hall when hall off with that sawed off
You gon call girl when I bomber off your brains over that walla
Call her, [?] mamas talk, east side worldwide gangland muzzle talk
Yeah!

[Chorus:]
I escape the Rico, I ain't even pose to be home
Ken of supreme is ma hero, yeah! hard head but [?]
Riding round in that Bugatti
Riding round in that Bugatti
Riding round, riding round
Riding round in that Bugatti
My tool on me, my tool on me
Riding round, dark shades
Riding round Illuminati
Repeat

[Verse 2:]
I'm riding round in that veyron my black strap and my stays on
My black hood and my Treyvon, my modular Akon
My dark level my cape mask, my life these rappers based on
[?]
That white girl that black power I back out and I clap cowards
Hundred rounds hundred rounds hundred rounds with these best [?]
These rap dudes like Matt Lao old talks bad films, watch me throw em
Watch me throw em, watch me throw em cause that's Elvis
Yeah!

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Look i'm riding round in that Bugatti
Plan of kush, few molly
Strapped up, turnt up
At the monster balling finna fuck Holly
A town a finna touch follies, my rap sheet too much bodies
6 hoes mother fuck foes, me and Po 2 shotties
Iced out no blood diamonds, this thug life real thug shining
All off that block work, shakedown mobster
Leaned back in that veyron, trunk full of that Heron
See me for that fish scale I parachute with them bricks on
East side i'm bossed up feet up in that big B
Me and all these big B's, VVS on my wrist be
YSL how my bitch be way out in sicily
I'm living this real life that fuck shit boy miss me

[Chorus:]
I escape the Rico, I ain't suppose to be home
Pimp C gave the G-code, ain't noth'n free but a free throw
I'm riding round in that Bugatti
Riding round in that Bugatti
Riding round, riding round
Riding round in that Bugatti
My tool on me, my tool on me
Riding round, dark shades
Shakedown Illuminati