“This is the operator with a collect call from: ‘Emory Jones’
To accept the charges, press 1 now”
Emory, what up?
Told you I ain’t too good with writing letters and all
Shit, I don’t even write rhymes
But what I will do
I’mma send you this open scribe through the airwaves
Vibe with me
Yeah, n#gg#, I bet we was kids and had dreams of being here
I said “we” ’cause I’m here, you here!
Yeah, ride with me, your spot is reserved, family
Cigarette boats, yachts, ain’t nowhere we can’t go
We in South Beach and the Hamptons, too, baby!
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
Do you wanna ride with me?
Do you wanna ride with me?
You know why they call the projects a project
Because it’s a project!
An experiment, we’re in it, only as objects
And the object for us to explore our prospects
And sidestep cops on the way to the top – yes!
As kids we would daydream, sitting on our steps
Pointing at cars like yeah that’s our 6
Hustlers profits made our eyes stretch
So on some Dr. Spock sh#t, we started our trek
Some of us made it, most of us digressed
In the name of those who ain’t made it, my progress
We show success, please live through me
See, I’m the eyes for Emory, keep him alive
(This is a collect call) So every time I press 5
All he wanna hear is his boy talk fly
Up in the fed, and still holding his head
So when he hits the streets he gon’ eat through this bread
Now let’s ride
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
Do you wanna ride with me?
Do you wanna ride with me?
I’m crushing all award shows
MTV, BET, the Grammys, crushed linen, Purple Label
All that fly sh#t we talked about
Giving them Sinatra pinky rings with the blue diamonds and everything
Hehehe, that’s what we talked about right?
Uh-huh… tried to told you, ride with me
International Hov, I told you so
40/40s out in Tokyo
Singapore, all this from singing songs
Coming up though we thought slinging raw
Was the end-all-be-all of being rich, didn’t we?
Little did I know my mo’ potent delivery
Would deliver me, kingpin of the ink pen
Monster of the double entendre, Coke is still my sponsor
Heh, the Cola, yeah
Hova still getting it in with soda
Diet, no sir, I ain’t lose no weight
Started from the crates now I’m sitting on a whole case
Since they got you sitting on that old case
Our dreams is on hold like TiVo
So I can’t wait ’til you get your date
I got some temp plates outside of the gate
We gon’ ride
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
Do you wanna ride with me?
Do you wanna ride with me?
Uh-huh, uh-huh
Geah
Don’t even worry about it though, you ain’t missed nothing
It only gets better, they got the Maybach Coupe now
Look like the Batmobile, the Phantom the top just comes off that joint
It only gets better
They can lock your body they can’t trap your mind
Keep your spirit alive read your books
Matter of fact, let me take you somewhere
Vibe with me, c’mon
Now me and my little mama, Quita and Ty-Ty
Juan and Dez out in Saint-Tropez
Jay Brown and Kawanna, sneaking marijuana
You know that Mary J., give you no more drama
Lost a couple friends this whole sh#t got weird
But when you get home you know your spot’s reserved, ya heard?
I put my n#gg#s on, my n#gg#s put their n#gg#s on
Now we all somewhere foreign, chilling, sipping something
I ain’t forget you cousin, heh
Yeah n#gg# y’all can wear sneakers on the beach if you want to
Y’all n#gg#s come and c’mon, playing money marathon
My young’n is LeBron, you know what that makes me, baby
Big Homie! Hehe, Emory, what’s up?
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
I know, I know
Some places we can go, some places we can go
Do you wanna ride with me?
Do you wanna ride with me?
Wan’ ride with us? You’re more than welcome
We ain’t on no b#llsh#t, uh
Put your feet up
Big Ty, I see you, boy
Guru, I don’t usually do this but
Roll me up something man
Let me get mellow on this sh#t right here
Uh-huh, yeah
Uh-huh, white paper though n#gg#
Can’t even f#ck with those blunts
White paper baby, old school n#gg# gimme a joint
Smooth it out, Young H.O
Emory Jones
Word to my momma, we living!
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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