Yo DJ play that new BONES song right now! But still, you just don't hear me though Robbin' in the 9 'fo But still, you just don't hear me though Robbin' in the 9 'foKicking in the door, clip hold 24, I'm home, bitch, what the issue is? Bitching on the phone to a bitch so loud, you couldn't even hear a DeadBoy enterin' Caught him in the kitchen, I am fucking on a mission Twelve shots, motherfuck a pistol whip He sipping that mud, I slip on that blood, now the sole on my boots they glistening Blood spill, spit in his face Sprayin' him like some fucking mace Creep pulling up in a G, skull stitched on the seats inside my getaway Tanqueray in my glass, reminiscing on my fucked up past Matter of fact bustin' all black but there's many memories I wish I never had Kicking back, smoke a blunt High as fuck, my brain is ripped Talking to my partner 'bout a play for some guala he down, I'm down, lets hit the strip Storm clouds every day, even if it's just inside my head Thunder and lightning, I am coming to strike him He see BONES and he know he deadBut still, you just don't hear me though Robbin' in the 9 'fo But still, you just don't hear me though Robbin' in the 9 'fo (Ride to it, ride to it Your ass can ride to it) (Ride to it, ride to it Your ass can ride to it) Ride to it, ride to it (Your ass can ride to it) (Ride to it, ride to it Your ass can ride to it)
