Artist/Band:
Nas
Lyrics for Song: Come Take A Ride (Two Seater)
Lyrics for Album: Other Songs - Nas
[Hook x2: Nas]
'Come Take a Ride' you can fit up in my two-seater
Nas a thug you can catch me in my wife beater
Blowin' my drugs you know how I like the cheeba-cheeba
And if you hatin' and I prolly don't like it either
[Nas:]
Fresh dressed like a million bucks
Threw on my black jeans and Timberland Chucks
I got some moneys in my pockets got some money to spend
Got some hoochies I'ma hook up wit quarter to ten
My daughter wit me and we came from the mall
Don't need no baby mama drama
Kissed her on the cheek and dropped her back off
I hit the car wash at half past four
Some kid was star struck
I pulled off my grass and let 'em puff sour
My deuce-deuce rims shinin' happy as they can be
I went to the famous Project that they call QB
I saw some brothers gamblin' on the curb
A shorty pulled a pistol took they paper, nigga that's my word
I turned the corner wit my burner and palm
Niggaz know my name and game I'm a murderous Don
Saw my peoples then extended my arm
Pulled on the sidewalk, no time to talk
If y'all comin' come on; come on!
[Hook x2: Nas]
[Nas:]
Talk like a champion, walk like a champion
Body like a God and I promise that Nas'll a hit you off
Flow like a gangsta, brum bum bum bum bum
Bustin' black dummies and dustin' all y'all niggaz off
I've been around a couple of times, know how things go
I dealt wit 'em all on different occasion
The same things'll come in different stages
So when them things rise up or pop up
I look right past as if its weightless
Meanin' it won't intervene the thought process
So I can levitate to more important topics
Laughin' the Face of Death, flash back of car crashes
20 L's Grey Goose vodka and tall glasses
Dippin' in the twilight
Wit gangsta smokin' weed in my ride light
The same stuff is still a bitch livin' like I'm rich
Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars come on
[Hook x2: Nas]
[Nas:]
Slow like I robbed Brinks truck, haters all fold
Cuz my .9 is aimed up, I left four seasons
My niggaz bleedin' cause of four reasons
Jealousy, hate, laziness and envy even
Up in the Benzie squeezin' a couple Henny wit my comrad
Conversatin' on what we believe in
Like honey in the way she's been cause he's spend
G's a week in the make freak knees bend
I told her to pimp hard, see the hoes we left in the room
They nymphomaniacs prolly lick homegirls womb
As respect just phone 'em and leave 'em & shit
They not your wife keep your cash nigga don't even trip
Pass the grass accordingly, you saw police
But when I puffed and coughed
Seconds later screamin' "Fuck the Lord"
Got CD's, TV's, guns tucked in the floor
Once again I hit the streets and y'all don't see no more
So uh...
[Hook x5: Nas]
|
