SHORT DAWG - Cruizin lyrics

rate me

Yeah

H-town pull ya slabs out (H-Town!)

H-town pull ya slabs out (It's goin down!)

Alright alright alright

Look, you can tell I'm a balla

When I'm in the 6-4 Chevrolet Impala

Cause the gloss on the candy paint is so lean

Rims big as Ruben, tires skinny as a dope fiend

It look clean from the oustide

But I'm ridin dirty cause of what I stashed in the rawhide

The big grills guaranteed to leave ya mouth wide

When ya see me cruzin' through the streets of the Southside

The state of Texas is where I'm from

Yeah, I'm a cowboy so when I ride I wear my gun

So run if you hear the glock noise

Or get shot down and stomped till ya all broke up like the Hot Boyz

Chicks wishin' they could ride with the young buck

While I'm lane switchin swangin' wild as some nunchucks

I told ya I'm strapped in case a hater run up

I leave 'em full of holes like a belt when I come bust

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street in my 6-4

Roll up a sweet and fire the Indo

Let the top back, roll down the window

I'm hittin swithces on a mission to get dough

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street

Cr-cr-cruzin' down the street in my 6-4

Cruzin' down the street

Cr-cr-cruzin' down the street in my 6-4

Uh,

You could tell I'm paper stackin

When you see my old school Chevy Capris Classic

Plus I got the speakers blastin

Bangin, ride with me, you gon' need to bring some aspirin

Four twelves in the trunk bridge the amplified

But the lil' rims with the slim lay on the camel tires

I hit the A and vallet at the Lenox mall

Smokin' on some sticky the same color as tennis balls

I ain't finished dawg

It's full of screens on the seats, reclined

While I'm watchin Crazy Joe in "Lean On Me"

I had to stop when the cops put the beams on me

Cause he pulled me over askin if I had some weed on me

But I told him no, so he let me go

He thought I was high cause I was ridin in my Chevy slow

Okay, I was blowed but I ain't tell him that

Slowin up traffic I'm the cat they yellin at

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street in my 6-4

Roll up a sweet and fire the Indo

Let the top back, roll down the window

I'm hittin swithces on a mission to get dough

Cause I'm cruzin' down the street

Damn!

I had to park the 6-4 cause it had a scratch

I ain't trippin now it's time to pull out the Cadillac

Yeah, that's how we do it down in H-Town

Ridin Fleetwoods bout as long as a Greyhound

On the steerin wheel is where the wood grain go

I got the fifth wheel but I ain't talkin bout a game show

You might see a playa swangin', swervin'

Cause down here all they drink is syrup'll have ya lazy

Eyes low, Screw tape screamin' play me

Fat Pat rappin man, hold up baby

Man, but a playa still cruzin'

Let the boy Short show you how we do in Houston

Even from the haters dawg, I gain respect

Cause when I pass by, I have his chick bout to sprain her neck

You wonder why ya ho wanna ride with me

Cause I'm on Spreewells and you rollin' on Mike Bibby's

Get with me