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

[Verse 2: Richie Rich]
N***as be wolfin' that bullshit, I don't give a fuck about none of that
And if ain't QB'in', my n***a, 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 muhfucka like me around
Talkin' to the cherry paint, lettin' it know
When we hit 88, bitch, 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 fuck wit' Dub tonight?
All my n***as, they down with the club shit
And we don't give a fuck 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 bitch bought you that bike and you think you're the motherfucker
Nah, it's pimpin', bitches 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, bitch, yeah, we gon' drift like nasty, ooh
I think I'm talking too much
These n***as 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 bitch ass off the brake, n***a, 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'