text: We ride, we ride 22s or better
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better
  I swang on em, swang on em
  I swang on em, swang on em
  Now if I catch you at the light
  I swang on em, swang on em
  That candy paint aint lookin right
  I swang on em, swang on em
  We ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  Now, if you come down to this Dirty South 
  Better watch your ears
  Cause country boys talk with a dirty mouth 
  And they on them corners
  And they hustling up that dirty D 
  Better watch them dirty boys
  Down South, we keep it dirty, G 
  I know you heard of me
  I got that work 
  Man, I got that white, and I got that purp
  And I got that brown and I got that green
  When Im in your town and I hit your scene
  In a candy-painted car thatll sit so clean
  Trunk on pop with the fifth on lean
  II Trill DVD playing on my screen
  Sitting on cream, man, you know what I mean?
  Now, if I catch you at the light
  I swang on em, swang on em
  That candy paint aint lookin right
  I swang on em, swang on em
  We ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  Now if you come down to this T-E-X 
  Better show some love
  Cause homie, you dont wanna see me plex 
  When we bout that paper
  It aint no shortstop in my cashier checks 
  I get full of ana
  And get to standing upon these niggas necks 
  Betta show respect
  Or we pulling out them Tecs 
  Man, I got them Macs, and I got them Ks
  And I got them nines, and I got them As
  R-15s and them two-two-treys
  Playa, when I ride, Ima ride for days
  No, I dont miss, and I sure dont graze
  Bring what you got, and I bet it dont faze
  Im a trill-ass nigga, man, its in my ways
  Now, if I catch you at the light
  I swang on em, swang on em
  That candy paint aint looking right
  I swang on em, swang on em 
  We ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better 
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em 
  Now Im Chi-Town-born and Im Chi-Town-bred
  Call me Westside Lu
  But I know about them Northside blues
  And them Southside reds 
  I run the F-N-F crew
  Til my man Chilly Chill come home and he back on deck
  My garage keep a very fast car
  Keep a classy gold chain wrapped around my neck
  Yeah, I came from the left, but Im downright fresh
  Speak on! How you on a song Bun B on?
  Complete 180, how crazy has he gone?
  How strong is the brand of the D that he on?
  How come he do what he want
  And never do what we want? 
  Im Rick James, and this game
  Is a white leather couch for me to plant my feet on
  The Murphys didnt jump me, told me to get comfy
  Even brought the loveseat for me to spill my drink on
  Willie D gave me my stamp
  Shout to Mike Jones and the Swisha camp
  That boy Kyleon and the Rap-A-Lot Ranch
  The Boss of the North and The Peoples Champ
  Coolest nigga, what? Coolest nigga, what?
  Getting swallowed by them city lights
  Ball til Im benched and I put it on the Pimp
  F-N-F U-P, U-G-K for life
  Now if I catch you at the light
  I swang on em, swang on em
  That candy paint aint looking right
  I swang on em, swang on em
  We ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  I swang on em, swang on em
  I swang on em, swang on em
  We ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em
  We, we ride, we ride 22s or better
  Swang on em; I swang on em, swang on em