One hundred years from now See the chrome, can't hear it move I'll meet you on the way down Wrapped around somebody's hand We've all moved on from here
Take me for a ride away from places I have known, If I stay around I'll just remember I'm alone There's someone in my memory making me move on, What was
Перевод: Ездить. Chrome волны.
a photo drop So I had to chop off the roof take a picture of that and call it photo chop Been riding clean Since Rodney King Martin Luther Dream and chrome
used to roll with me, way back in '93 When I was broke as fuck Be prepared to blast, that's all that he ask If he's to ride with you We gonna make some
it became a big lot 600s on chrome, it don't stop Detroit we just hot Young niggas stay fly at all times Hoes 21 and under with gangsta rides Keep our
with that bird, and you know we just hooked us up on some syrup, now you know we gone, goin real strong, I thinkin ride far, I thinkin ride long, drop
Sittin' on chrome, sittin' on chrome Sittin' on chrome, sittin' on chrome Sittin' on chrome, sittin' on chrome Sittin' on chrome, sittin' on chrome He
shit because crime pays I'll rock a cescear and doo rag and I don't got waves Don't got waves, don't got waves, don't got waves Yo, what u niggas wanna
all of y'all Y'all niggas play around, guns I wave around Nigga better stay down, lay down, weigh pounds Put 'em on the Greyhound, ride it up to K-Town
us All my true thugs and all my real bitches Won'tcha come and ride with us Do it like a hustler, Lil' Kim and Twista Might as well ride with us Male
thug Middle fingers up Wave 'em from side to side Ride or die Do or Die Outlaw for life Middle fingers up Wave 'em from side to side Ride or die Do or
all black Bust shots like a New Year day blast And I ride all day like a bus pass Grinding hard for the bread and the cash flow Kick doors wave .4's where
color change Uh Excuse me miss, it's Rasaq On the block, you should not Look at the watch [Verse One- Rasaq] Ay, chrome swings pokin' out the side of the ride
hurt me at first but it's cool Took the insults, fed 'em to my ego, used it for fuel Now everywhere I turn a dead end Hundred women coming at me waving
My Uncle Pete was a trucker Riding that Nullarbor Plain Ten split gears and an overdrive Chrome stacks shooting out flames He'd throw me up into the
