Hog Ridin’ lyrics

[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, b*tch
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 f*ck 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 sh*t
Just like Ike, just like my n*gga 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 b*tch on the back
But I ride so fast, I split from the pack
You tryna keep up, what you want, man?
You f*ckin' wit' a daredevil stuntman
Wit' my front wheel straight in the air
I do this sh*t for real, I ain't fakin' it, player
My n*ggas ride these right; you say do, too?
You just might be right, so go ahead and prove it
Pop that clutch, do some sh*t
Stop squeezin' it, makin' noise, you stupid b*tch
You revvin' up your engine like you playin' with toys
Round here, we'll f*ck 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 n*ggas, haha

[Verse 2: Richie Rich]
n*ggas be wolfin' that bullsh*t, I don't give a f*ck about none of that
And if ain't QB'in', my n*gga, 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 muhf*cka like me around
Talkin' to the cherry paint, lettin' it know
When we hit 88, b*tch, 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 f*ck wit' Dub tonight?
All my n*ggas, they down with the club sh*t
And we don't give a f*ck 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 b*tch bought you that bike and you think you're the motherf*cker
Nah, it's pimpin', b*tches 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, b*tch, yeah, we gon' drift like nasty, ooh
I think I'm talking too much
These n*ggas 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 b*tch ass off the brake, n*gga, 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'