This is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, yeah, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal, this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal, this is for my people, from Panama to Puerto Rico, Mexico, Jamaica, L.A., San Francisco, 606 foes, we keep touching C-notes, pop your clutch and get yours,
everybody in my clique knows, we split flows tremendous, the hustle continues, cause the struggle is endless, we in this to win this, tempt the system and get some riches, don't get it twisted when you see us riding in them sixes, we steal low ride, hit most switches, parking lot pimp to perfection, with no glitches, no problemos, just more dinero, plushed out casas in the middle of the ghetto, player JT's my homie, I call Guero, Frostolini Loco is my old school perro, my homie cameo, toasting the mermosa, dancing, getting money like I'm Fabrizio,
this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal, this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal,
city to city, state to state, in the coke white Cadillac, hustling on my license plate, it's JT from the clica, give all I speak of, I sip gin to the dome, seven days a week,
I park handicapped, get out limping, they ask what it is, I say it's pimping, I'm riding round town, with no L, got Nathan, but the giz ain't for sale, on the pram, do your hood full blown, JT, Frost, Cameo, and Siscon, three players, and one real bad bitch, we don't want it all, just trying to get a tad rich, hit the park, where everybody hang at, do our thing at, nobody bang at, all we do is stack a bank, sip on drink, and smoke a dance,
this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal,
this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal,
I'm in a big black Cadillac, coupe the vehicle, with a freak in the back, and two on the grips, sitting sideways, case I got, cause yo, it's big frost, smelling like endo smoke, I blaze it up,
every joint real heavy, park my ride, jumping to my homeboy's shift, six-fold rack, top candy cup, a boss like me can never get too lovely, I turn down, nothing but coppers,
grew up in the streets, with nothing but bottles, counting nothing but dollars, I'm in this trying to get breaded on the boulevard, trying not to get swelled, I got a couple of breezes, but I need more, it's parking lot piffing at the liquor store, and I'm sipping on gin at the bottom, here come the police, playboy, hit the pram,
this is for my homies, my gente, we ride Presidente, squatting on Bankdale, full throttle, pedal to the metal, we touching money, mucho el metal,
this that bitch cameo, she's in a riding boss, in a six-point pilot, till the wheels fall off, me and Frost ain't lost, we just in the cut, with the windows tinted, doors locked,
the shutters crying,
smoke done tacked, and affecting my donuts, Jay put me on with Don Sisco, once again it's on, I'm to the studio, be careful of the bump, cause I'm riding low,
caught up in the traffic, Frisco bad, turn around, trip from the V-town, how you like me now, so fresh, so clean, the ice got me shining like Vaseline,
now homies dream of faster things, before we see a bling bling, wanna hear a ching ching, can't settle down, I stay ready to ride, all bullshit to the side, and we alive,
okay