Too $hort — Hog Ridin

[Intro: Too $hort] Hog ridin', hog ridin' Hog ridin', hog ridin' Yeah, this how we do it on the West Coast Harley Davidson, baby, everything chrome, bitch Hog ridin' [Verse 1: Too $hort] On my hog, I keep it at a hundred-plus On the freeway, you don't wanna run with us 'Cause we racin', we bettin' big stacks You get left back, ain't no way to catch that So fuck it, you can't ride like the hog does Think you a ruff ryder but you ain't hard enough You ever seen my cousin Sideways Burnin' rubber on the highways? Now watch me, I'm 'bout to swing my shit Just like Ike, just like my nigga Richie Rich That's how these West Coast G's be We showin' off on HDTV I know you wish you could be 'Cause when I ride my hog, the girls get freaky They hear us comin' from a mile away We hella clean, we ridin' in style today It's all custom, down to the wheels and tires You could see the smoke, but you don't see the fire I never would stop burnin' rubber, son We tear 'em up and then we build another one Yeah, I got my bitch on the back But I ride so fast, I split from the pack You tryna keep up, what you want, man? You fuckin' wit' a daredevil stuntman Wit' my front wheel straight in the air I do this shit for real, I ain't fakin' it, player My niggas ride these right; you say do, too? You just might be right, so go ahead and prove it Pop that clutch, do some shit Stop squeezin' it, makin' noise, you stupid bitch You revvin' up your engine like you playin' with toys Round here, we'll fuck you up, boy [Chorus: Too $hort] Hog ridin', hog ridin', hog ridin', hog ridin' [Interlude: Too $hort & Richie Rich] Ay, what's up, Richie Rich? Gon' pull that glide out, wipe some of that dust off that thang Like that, mayne? I tried to tell these niggas, haha [Verse 2: Richie Rich] Niggas be wolfin' that bullshit, I don't give a fuck about none of that And if ain't QB'in', my nigga, then you must be a running back Yard for yard, pound for pound, so sideways when I'm in The Town Throttle left, hold it down, last real muhfucka like me around Talkin' to the cherry paint, lettin' it know When we hit 88, bitch, I'm lettin' it go First to the right then back to the left Ooh, shift to the right then back to the left Second gear, slidin' right, now who wanna fuck wit' Dub tonight? All my niggas, they down with the club shit And we don't give a fuck what you got in that bike I'm a rider from The Town Bring a pink slip if you wanna get down No salvage type is the way I ball You built that bike, boy, you ain't Paul Senior or Junior, you're just another sucka Your bitch bought you that bike and you think you're the motherfucker Nah, it's pimpin', bitches know my steelo No back rest, no quick release, and we gon' get a C-note I tap that leg, she tighten up, and watch daddy run past it And when take this exit, bitch, yeah, we gon' drift like nasty, ooh I think I'm talking too much These niggas say my bike's dog, it's 'cause I walk him too much It's Rich Richard, and now I must get out that ass Get your bitch ass off the brake, nigga, and hit that gas [Chorus: Too $hort] Hog ridin', hog ridin', hog ridin', hog ridin' [Outro: Too $hort] Now you see it, that's how you do it West Coast, baby, California in the house Harley Davidson riders Hog ridin'