Saints Row 3 Rap "Welcome to the Row"
Welcome to the row!
It's time to get paid, getting cash, driving fast, whooping ass and getting laid.
Welcome to the row!
Just another Drive-By.
Welcome to the row!
It's time to get robbed, take your car, take your girl, take guns and take your job.
Welcome to the row!
Just another Drive-By.
Walking low like a pro, time to go, got my homies lined up like ducks in a row, and no.
We ain't out looking for day jobs, we came to get loot, steal cars and bank robs.
Pickpocket your ass, take your cash like a thief, make 'em badass beats and straight running the street.
I'm taking over this town, you can call me godfather, got more tricks up my slieves than Harry Potter.
Blood stains on my shirt 'cause I'm the king pin, put you in your place and beat your face in to oblivion.
Armed to the teeth, I'm a little bit mental, got so many guns it's like I'm in south central.
Popping caps in your ass, you better hide. Gangbanging, drug slanging, straight living gold life.
Drinking while I drive, always getting my swirves, I'm doing a hundred and five while zipping my burboun.
I'm the king of the streets, you better have a grenade.
When I see the strippers I'm making it rain.
Like a pimp I reach back and give you a smack.
Otha have your fake titties when you sit on my lap
It's time to get paid, getting cash, driving fast, whooping ass and getting laid.
Welcome to the row!
Just another Drive-By.
Welcome to the row!
It's time to get robbed, take your car, take your girl, take guns and take your job.
Welcome to the row!
Just another Drive-By.
Walking low like a pro, time to go, got my homies lined up like ducks in a row, and no.
We ain't out looking for day jobs, we came to get loot, steal cars and bank robs.
Pickpocket your ass, take your cash like a thief, make 'em badass beats and straight running the street.
I'm taking over this town, you can call me godfather, got more tricks up my slieves than Harry Potter.
Blood stains on my shirt 'cause I'm the king pin, put you in your place and beat your face in to oblivion.
Armed to the teeth, I'm a little bit mental, got so many guns it's like I'm in south central.
Popping caps in your ass, you better hide. Gangbanging, drug slanging, straight living gold life.
Drinking while I drive, always getting my swirves, I'm doing a hundred and five while zipping my burboun.
I'm the king of the streets, you better have a grenade.
When I see the strippers I'm making it rain.
Like a pimp I reach back and give you a smack.
Otha have your fake titties when you sit on my lap
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Todd, Mason Healey Storm
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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