Letras:Jim Jones. On My Way To Church. Let's Ride (Them Riders).

(feat. J.R. Writer)

[Jim Jones](talking)
Yea, Jones...Capo Status
You know what this is about! Its about riders...
all my states around the countries
all my niggaz from ghetto to ghetto, my niggaz ready to ride..
R.I.P Biggie Smalls this one's for you..

[Chorus 2X: Jim Jones]
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]
Lock and load the clip, see po-po then slow the whip
Big ass guns in a stolen whip, but if you got weed then roll the shit
You rollin with
Them rollin Dips, straight up weed no poofin these
Straight up G's no doopin me, brazy b's that shoot up shit
Major cheese off of movin bricks
From cuttin up rain to shuflin rain
Baggin these hoes fuckin some dames
Waking up morning and fuckin the dame
I'm in restaurants Mr. Chows, stuntin hard like 50 thou
I keep my goons my niggaz wild, shootin that thing til ya shit go BLAOW!
The palmin weed cant come my needs, Hatian niggaz bombin weed
Gats mo-mo, techs gon blow, all in these streets
Shots with a four pound, AK when it go round
Dont play when it go round
In little Haiti them niggaz crazy like "get 'em baby!"

[Chorus: Jim Jones]2x
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Jim Jones]
Call my gang to bust, know you fags aint dangerous
Must be high off angel dust, to think that you can bang wit us hang wit us
Tape you to the hood no thang with us, shoot up ya club get ya mangled up
I call my gangstas up, and get ya faggot ass tangled up
Now what you bitches, step on the corner wit a bunch of G's
Tryna dump the heat, while you duck police
Me myself I run the streets wit no regard
(They) like "OH MY GOD!"
We just sittin here not to lose, high off weed and lots of booze
Call my G's when I got to move, cause I drop 100 G's when I copped the Coupe
Niggaz round the way tryna take my life, cause I run round the way wit a neck full of ice
Gotta bunch of doggs and I set 'em to bite, if you niggaz want war we can do it tonight
I'm prayin to the Lord that optimize, DipSet ByrdGang know I'ma ride
And I'ma rep til my last breath, take a pull of my last hit
Pull up on these niggaz and blast the bitch, eastside when I mask the bitch
We ride on some panther shit, gotta go prac, lotta load gats
If a niggaz run on me then I gotta go back...back...(and we gon ride out and get high)

[Chorus: Jim Jones]2x
Let's ride, here go some riders, I hope you know the riders
Them holding, rollin riders, lock and load my riders
You know we riders, that ride out and get high, and just ride
And get high and just ride

[Chorus 2X: J.R. Writer
You know we riders, I hope you know we riders
You think you roll wit liars, you'll hear them 4's wit fire
Listen lame, I'm insane, to this game, get this flame in ya brain
Like "BANG BANG BANG BANG..."

[J.R. Writer]
Yo, who is realer than us? we'll turn jailors to sluts
I'm too real chill, you can't inhale what I puff
Peep it duke, me to you's, like a whale to a gup
Keep ya Chuck Taylors, I'ma go taylor my Chucks
You'll get whaled on the snuck, gat for ice, match it twice
Faggot dyke, mag to bite, there go ya appetite
My niggaz blast the pipe, black ya lights, flag the kite
Shout to my man Tito Lino facin natural life
I'm just natural nice
You's hermaphrodite, my man Zeke be home 3 nigga pass the kite (Freeky!)
This the facts of life, facts of ice, scrap ya right
Cabbage sliced, matchin chain, matchin Nikes
You's a coward please, I keep the power squeezed
Creep this thunder'll leave you under them flower trees
I done crowd the pease, wit about a thousand keys
Ask about me, I aint gotta break a smile to cheese