conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Ridin Strikers with the following description: “Ridin Strikers” has Future rapping about sending shooters to deal with the opposition. The instrumental sounds reminiscent of his DS2 days, which is fitting considering it’s produced by Southside and ATL Jacob.
  The track features a new report-style interlude about a bank robbery–presumably done by Future and his counterparts. Following this, the beat switches to an ominous slowed piano as Future prepares to rob another bank whilst pouring up drank. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro]
  Riding strikers
  Hotbox shit, gonna hotbox (Pluto)
  I'm gonna cut 'em (You got somethin' to bring)
  [Chorus]
  Riding strikers good, yeah
  Riding strikers through the hood
  Riding strikers through your hood (Ridin' strikers through), yeah
  Ridin' strikers through your hood, yeah
  Fuck a title, you got that rifle, you need to ride striker
  Go for the Ferrari, a Spider, man, I had to ride striker
  I taught my young niggas how to slide, go and get a striker
  I put my young bitch in a G-Wag' she ridin' striker
  [Verse]
  I go to Jamaica then tag 'em with a hundred snipers
  I dip the ice and go (Woo), I step out icy, frozen (Woo)
  I hit professional (Woo), I have déjà vu, I know (Woo)
  I'm gettin' my decimals (Woo), I'm going digital
  Spazzin' in Jimmy Choo, bagged up plentiful
  Tell me how I'm supposed to be sober in my interview (sober)
  Last night I was growing up (I was in Fendi too)
  Took flight, I've been going up (That's a ritual)
  Passport and we going up like some animals
  Addied up and I'm gassed up, change the temperature
  Triple rows, tall hoes, they identical
  Minute Maid, Hi-Tech splash (Goin' crazy)
  Drug raids got me cold, got me cocky (Ahh)
  Can't stand it, 
  won't enjoy life if it ain't toxic
  Cuban links, walking on ice, I don't play hockey
  I was trained standin' on Front Street and I'm saucy
  High profile superstar, codeine coughing
  Cop a Porsche, cop a Range Rover, it's King Jaffe
  Kick a door, smokin' sherm sticks, take Oxys
  Piss poor, we sticking together like (Gang)
  King Kong, I'm taking drugs out my body
  Insane, inside my brain and my posse [Chorus]
  Riding strikers good, yeah
  Riding strikers in the hood
  Riding strikers good, yeah
  Ridin' strikers in the hood, yeah
  Fuck a title, you got that rifle, you need to ride striker (Striker)
  Go for the Ferrari, a Spider, man, I had to ride striker (Striker)
  I taught my young niggas how to slide, go and get a striker
  I put my young bitch in a G-Wag' she ridin' striker (Strike)
  [Post-Chorus]
  Riding strikers good
  Riding strikers through your hood, yeah
  Riding strikers through
  Riding strikers through the hood, nigga
  Yeah, riding strikers through your hood, yeah
  [Interlude]
  The police need your help in tracking down a suspect in a bank robbery this morning on the city's north side
  According to police, the suspect walked into the bank about nine this morning
  Went straight to one of the tellers, handed over a note that said
  "Put money in bag"
  [Outro]
  Hold on, pouring up drank
  Hold on, now I'm robbin' me a bank
  Hold on, fucking on foreign
  Hold on, that bitch with you ain't
  Hold on, whippin' up foreign
  Hold on, drive it like a tank
  Hold on, pouring up drank
  Hold on, 'bout to rob me a bank
  Hold on, smokin' on pressure
  Hold on, straight out a pound
  Hold on, crazy-ass shooter (Crazy-ass shooter)
  Hold on, sprayin' in the crowd (Sprayin' in the crowd)
  Hold on, kill 'em on sight
  Hold on, still go to trial
  Hold on, nigga get life
  Hold on, been scarred as a child
  Hold on, 
  rob me a bank
  Rob me a bank
  Hold on