Still Ridin' Testo
Testo Still Ridin'
Since I left ain't too much changed
Yeah, 'cept for the pilot
First-class virgin, wanna ride in purple-violet?
Well stick beside your boy, I'll put a word in
Sneak you behind the curtain while I VIP park my bourbon
If the Slums can't party, then fuck it
We'll take the parking lot and then throw a thirty rock in a bucket
My folks looking like Joe Dirt with that curb service
That LSD trip shit, bitch, is your knees hurtin'?
Blue skies, black suede leather Bumpin' Pink Floyd in May weather
Windows down on that grey Monte Carlo
Embedded rubber on concrete, leavin' trails on the paved letters
On that Powell-Peralta concave
I kick, push through childhood, I've come of age
Ask me how I'm doin', the shit is gold, really, though
Catfish, really, though, and Billy done did it, ho (Did it, ho)
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
(Yeah, yeah)
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah) We still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Yeah, yeah
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah, yeah, yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We still ridin'
Like a Clydesdale chariot, beatin' these 808s up, up, up
Area 51, Paganistic and alien
No Christian Dior adorns the native son
Drippin' Dixie since '81
Sippin' whiskey since Raekwon spit hit page one
Nerd shit, that gamma-ray gun
That any day come, fuck a rap punk sucker, I'm a bum
Tornado picked up my trailer, I'm in a new zone
How do you go from group home to Luke Combs?
'Cause I'm a Matrix in itself, a true song
Plus I hit the Oracle up, red or a blue phone (Marshall)
Yeah, and I made it with little profit
I got an eye from a wizard because I stake the pocket
Ask me how I'm doing, this shit is gold, really, though
Catfish, really, though, and Billy done did it, ho (Did it, ho)
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
(Yeah, yeah)
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah)
We still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Yeah, yeah
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah, yeah, yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We still ridin'
Yeah, 'cept for the pilot
First-class virgin, wanna ride in purple-violet?
Well stick beside your boy, I'll put a word in
Sneak you behind the curtain while I VIP park my bourbon
If the Slums can't party, then fuck it
We'll take the parking lot and then throw a thirty rock in a bucket
My folks looking like Joe Dirt with that curb service
That LSD trip shit, bitch, is your knees hurtin'?
Blue skies, black suede leather Bumpin' Pink Floyd in May weather
Windows down on that grey Monte Carlo
Embedded rubber on concrete, leavin' trails on the paved letters
On that Powell-Peralta concave
I kick, push through childhood, I've come of age
Ask me how I'm doin', the shit is gold, really, though
Catfish, really, though, and Billy done did it, ho (Did it, ho)
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
(Yeah, yeah)
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah) We still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Yeah, yeah
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah, yeah, yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We still ridin'
Like a Clydesdale chariot, beatin' these 808s up, up, up
Area 51, Paganistic and alien
No Christian Dior adorns the native son
Drippin' Dixie since '81
Sippin' whiskey since Raekwon spit hit page one
Nerd shit, that gamma-ray gun
That any day come, fuck a rap punk sucker, I'm a bum
Tornado picked up my trailer, I'm in a new zone
How do you go from group home to Luke Combs?
'Cause I'm a Matrix in itself, a true song
Plus I hit the Oracle up, red or a blue phone (Marshall)
Yeah, and I made it with little profit
I got an eye from a wizard because I stake the pocket
Ask me how I'm doing, this shit is gold, really, though
Catfish, really, though, and Billy done did it, ho (Did it, ho)
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
Yeah, we went from counting the O's in the SpaghettiOs
To countin' zeros, oh, what a heavy load
Stakes are high, but the Chevy's low
We still ridin' (Still ridin')
(Yeah, yeah)
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah)
We still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah)
Yeah, yeah
Still ridin' (Still ridin', yeah, yeah, yeah)
Stakes are high but the Chevy's low (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We still ridin'
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