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water - young roddy lyrics

[intro: young roddy]
whole team ridin’, this my whole ‘hood ridin’
whole team ridin’, this my whole ‘hood

[verse 1: young roddy]
i got twenty-five lighters on my dresser
i had a shoot-out once
i threw it twice, don’t you test me
my flow sick; i’m sneezing on the track, god bless me
my neighbor lost her son to a bullet, god help her
my wrap sheet clean, but all my homies got felons
i be goin’ so hard
sh-t i feel it’s now or never
i got a black queen like keisha straight from belly
her last man’s hatin’ and my old ho’s jealous
what’s the recipe to k!ll these beats? i never tell it
back then, i turn my momma crib to a telly
fell in love with this one bad b-tch, her name was mary
introduced her to my bro, told my mom i’m gettin’ married
everybody tellin’ tales; liar liar, jim carrey
a skinny–ss n-gga, in the streets i’m h-lla heavy
every time i talk that street sh-t, they don’t know about it
i don’t own no maybach, i don’t own no bugatti
all i own is a ss ninety-six impala
drive it like a nascar, knowin’ it’s a long body
word to master p, i keep it g, i’m ’bout it ’bout it
all the fiends call my phone cause they know i always got it
n-gga stay fresh, stay fly like a pilot
you can find my in the cut ducked off like i’m hidin’
dope man pulled up, boy that’s perfect timing
n-gga f-ck with route, they f-ck around and start a riot
whole team ridin’, b-tch, my whole ‘hood ridin’
word to my n-gga jizzle, real n-ggas never die
on the corner sellin’ stones all day and all night
good thing i had some work put away for a drought
’bout to go on tour, told my dime-piece to keep it tight
most of these rap n-ggas whack, don’t believe the hype
i been writin’ all day, writin’ raps and writin’ kites
to my n-gga in the pen, they tryin’ to give my n-gga life
we was chillin in the ‘hood, on our huffy’s poppin’ wheelies
all we heard was gunshots, another body by the building
i seen the car speed off, i think it was a civic
know the color, know the shooter, still i never do no snitchin’
got a rat up in your crew, boy that’s bad for your business
’bout to blow, i’m so close, fool, i’m talkin’ fourth and inches
got a trill b-tch who’ll die for a n-gga
she keep her legs spread and let me dive in that kitty
lucky me..

[outro: young roddy]
‘hood ridin’, this my whole ‘hood ridin’, b-tch
my team ridin’, this my whole ‘hood ridin’, b-tch
‘hood ridin’, this my whole ‘hood ridin’, b-tch
my team ridin’, this my whole ‘hood ridin’, b-tch

- young roddy lyrics

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