Doperide

(álbum: Every Six Seconds - 2001)

Comin down like a hatchet, rollin with the masses, throwin my matches atop of a gasoline package.
Throwin rhymes like ratchets, playas with passion comin disastrous bashin.
Runnin round with the wrong crowd acting like you all down, bout it, bout it,
but you bow down.
What's up with you, what's up with you, what's up with me,
you're the one that I see through.
Right, left take a ride in the doperide, yeah.
Right, left take a ride.
Getting paid in the last days.
Rage of the teenage.
Comin out strong and hard and on the front page.
Haven't I stated, never been faded.
If you're steppin up, for sure you're getting wasted.
Hangin out base in time you're wasted, hear you talkin local scene,
I'm talkin nation.
Everything I will be, everything I should be, everything you'll never be,
everything you can't but wanna be.
Right, Left, take a ride in the doperide, yeah.
Right, left take a ride.
No apologies like I'm born-again.
No authorities gonna fumble my legs.
Rollin with the masses throwin my matches, atop of a gasoline package.