Reason - Pop shit

Yeah, uh
Uh, yeah

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit

Wait, ride with my block, ride with my steez, pop shit
I ain't need help, I got the keys, locksmith
Fuck who the best, I clean up mess, mop shit
Get shit off my chest, I took too many steps, Rocket
James Harden, my fame gone and my game Marvin
When I get back, leave, and they all find us, I can't father
Then a lot haters said I could, became your father
That's just 'Pac shit, now I pop shit, Reason cockpits
Wait, high as planes, my stock raised, let's be honest
I was ballin' way before the bucks
Feel like Giannis Antetokoumnpo
These niqqas is too slow, found me a loophole
Competition, I been takin' care of niqqas, it's a group home
Stacks, been gettin' money, spittin' crack in inner cities
Rap game, had to stick my foot in
Like eenie-meenie-minie-moe to you niqqas
Feel like the GOAT to you niqqas
Also known as Prince of Del Amo to you niqqas, wait

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (wait)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (yeah)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (wait, wait)


Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (yo)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (yo)
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit (uh, yo)

Dance on my heels, mobbin' this still
Plug in my wheel, dubs what I fear
Ride for my tears, wait
Die for my block, rise in that pot
Lead to my opps, dead in that box
Storms in my bop (woo)
God in my rack, shells on that ass and I know it (yeah)
How dare niggas speak my name and they ain't glowin'? (What?)
Jumpin' up that big boy thing, the gun smokin' (uh)
What's back seatin' when loccin', was no gimme
Now benji, ay, it's Blueface, baby, and I'm greedy (Blueface baby)
Keep eatin', uh chef boy groovy while y'all sleepin'
Yo, we face the ay
Nine years in it and still peakin', yo, let's go for ten, uh
Belt snuggie, he got them M's, huh (Yeah)
Benz, rim rub, big bank, the main shooter (shooter)
The house, tulips palm trees, the crib Cuba (yeah)
The ox bandit, black face, the crash landin'
The gun toter, one dream, to win, solo (Brrt)

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit

Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit
Ride with my block, ride with my block, pop shit

Writers: Quincy Matthew Hanley , Robert Lee Jr. Gill

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics licensed by LyricFind