(To) (to) (to)
  (To the tic)
  (To the tic-tic) --> Slick Rick
  
  Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah
  Kurupt Young Gotti
  Hell yeah
  
  Raw Dawg
  You know
  You know me
  Raw Dawg Assassin
  Comin atcha, baby
  Cat, kick it in
  Kick it in
  
  [ VERSE 1 ]
  Pull up...
  Soon as I park shit sparks
  Spit fire, gangbang affiliation, retalitation
  Spit sparks till shit's dark forever
  What's up, homie
  Why you walkin up on me?
  Postin up in the shade
  We can draw or get paid
  You ain't movin not a thing, homeboy
  Click em with automatics and automatic toys
  Bounce, rock, rollerskatin
  Dippin down the streets on platinum Daytons
  (Yo, what up?)
  I'm just a gee
  Oh yeah, that's me
  Don't forget it
  Act like you knew it 'fore I set it
  I put the needle on top of the wax
  Before I turn around
  And burn everything to the ground
  I seen it comin
  A fool over to the right gunnin
  The homies whistled
  We all draw pistols
  
  [ CHORUS ]
  Gotta stay in charge
  Gotta play my cards
  On the grind all day, babe
  Oh, gots to get paid
  
  [ VERSE 2 ]
  You got a stash to hid, you got some hash to hit?
  Cash to get, glocks to pop and shit
  (What you talkin bout?) Everybody's got questions and shit
  (Hey yo, what's up with...?) Muthafuckas questionin shit
  (Shut the fuck up, homie) Worryin bout me and my wife
  (My wife) All I wanna do is live my life
  (That's all) Raise up off me, homie
  (Yeah) Ease back softly, homie
  (Check it out) I'm a gee from the D.P.G.
  And no matter what you say, you can't fuck with me
  Hey loco, I see you wanna loc out
  Coastin, movin in locomotion
  In the cut dippin, the homeboys trippin
  Spittin, waitin for a shot to get called
  The homie spit a plot to us
  Then passed the 16-shots to us
  
  Uh-u-uh
  Uh-u-uh
  Uh-u-uh
  
  [ VERSE 3 ]
  I got scams for hundreds of gramms
  Me and my man, me and my pistol, a plan
  For about a
  Whole ki load of some powder
  Stashin, dippin, dashin, smashin, tryin to cash in
  >From the front to the back, and packin
  Pull the strap and start clappin
  I'm about to move a little somethin
  A little sumptin-sumpin
  For the homie, pack the pump and get to dumpin
  Hit the liquor store, I wanna get paid
  A fifth of Hen, then back to the shade
  What you got, smoke, loc, let's blaze up
  Let me get a toke, loc, and let's raise up
  Punks stop and get popped when funk pop
  I'm worldwide while you thinkin: either he is or he's not
  International like [???]
  You can feel me
  In the real way
  
  [ CHORUS ]
  
  Bitches, get your ride on, on
  
  Kurupt Young Gotti
  Raw Dawg
  
  Just get your ride on
  Just get your ride on, homie
  
  My nigga Battlecat
  Ha-ha
  
  Just get your ride on, homie
  
  (To the tic-tic
  And you don't quit
  Hit it)
  
  This is for the riders
  Riders
  The riders
  
  Hustlers
  Hustlers
  The hustlers
  
  This is the one, baby!
  
  (Tic-toc)
  (Ya) (ya) (ya don't)
  (Ya) (ya) (ya) (ya don't stop) (stop) (stop)
  Bitch