lirik lagu psychopathic rydas - no luv
(converse)
i got n-o-l-o-v-e for mtv
you cant see me in the locs in a black beemy
got no love for cops not even a teeny weeny
bit, sh-t
my black truck got the phat kit
(full clip)
so what you though you stupid little b-tch?
that full clip gave up on all this rydin’ sh-t?
what love i had left i done shot it
and what hater put out m-th-f-cka well, you got it
(sawed off)
check this out dog i don’t give a f-ck
that’s why i’m bombin’ on you b-tches i don’t got no love
this whole world is insane and psycho listen to the thug-ism
only bodies fallin’ is the ones with the love in them
(lil’ shank)
representin’ the rydas because were mashin’ and thuggin’
ain’t got no love for yall buggin’ thinking were wildin’ for nothing
if in your face its for something my windows down my truck b-mpin’
my fifty speakers are thumpin’ and i’m about to start dumpin’
(cell block)
i got no love for the government (f-ck that sh-t)
they upset cause i’m clockin’ more skrilla then the m-th-f-ckin’ president
then have it all sent to accounts in swiss banks
then all the rest chillin’ in my baby mama name
(bullit)
i got no love for innocent people caught in the way
between a ryda and his pay, ain’t no way, not today
it’s been a long time and i been waitin’ on this chance
so when my bullets advance, i’m putting sh-t in your pants
(converse)
i’m comin’ straight from the murder glove i got no love
my styles underground but still so much above
you can try and shove me i still wont budge
and a thousand years from now i still be holdin’ a grudge
(full clip)
all these punk b-tch -ss m-th-f-ckas runnin around
claimin’ to ride get chopped the f-ck down
you can even know me run up and give a dap
the second you turn around your catchin’ one in the back
(sawed off)
man please, there’s so many out here frontin’
beatty eyed m-th-f-ckas always lookin’ for something
that why i never did and never would have any love
for the simple fact i hate to love, b-tch what
(lil’ shank)
ain’t got no love for yall b-tches yall p-ssy as your only -sset
lets put that -ss in a skirt and see where pimpin’ can get
don’t be a customer getting buck for all your cheddar
once a john twice a trick should of known better, it ain’t no love
(cell block)
for punks who pack unloaded pistols
then keep it plane and simple you soft as shirley temple
i take the gat from you and bust your whole sh-t out
and leave you where you lay with blood spillin’ out you mouth
(bullit)
they call my doctor loveless ain’t got no love for no other
then for your head with hot lead about to make love to one another
i’m lovin’ no one if you ain’t a ryda bullets inside ya
and david copper-f-ck couldn’t hide you from the slugs
(converse)
caps spit off fly hoes suck d-ck
i got no love if you ain’t tryna f-ck, b-tch
trick another m-th-f-cka
i got no love for radio dj’s ma’s a d-ck sucker
(full clip)
i got a full clip of these heat seekin’ bullets with your name
your about to have a cryin’ mama with a body to claim
i already got front page news paper fame
plus this drink got me on this anti love thing
(sawed off)
only love i got is this gat in your back
when i’m jackin’ your tractor make it 10 times more fat
what makes you think anybody was feelin’ you?
sh-t every time i see your -ss i think about killin’ you
(lil’ shank)
i got no love for you side your side don’t got no love back
ain’t got no love for the haters mad cause i’m holdin’ a gat
ain’t got no time for that chatter man you can kill all that mess
i’m aiming straight for your face so f-ck your teflon vest
(cell block)
there ain’t no love for the dust nose addicted to my crack
there layin’ on their death bed i’m still getting’ my money back
no love for the family and f-ck all there friends
best believe i’m getting my cheddar back in the end
(bullit)
black trucks, we let you no we coming with b-mps
and don’t increase your chances no way when the shotgun pumps
i blow the life out your body, and bust at your ghost
my hollow points will have you dead and cooked like f-ck -ss pot roast
cause you a f-ck -ss (punk -ss f-ck -ss)
in the f-ckin’ way of my cash (in the way of my money)
so it’s, you i blast (ain’t no love for no f-ck -ss)
you a f-ck -ss in the f-ckin’ way of my cash (no love m-th-f-cka)
so it’s, you i blast (i’ll bullet hole ya, i’ll funeral ya)
you a f-ck -ss (cover your nuts b-tch)
in the f-ckin’ way of my cash (stay away from my cheddar)
so it’s, you i blast (you better get down and lay down m-th-f-cka)
you a f-ck -ss (bring it)
in the f-ckin’ way of my cash (you done f-cked up now)
so its, you i blast (whatever’s whatever, rydas don’t love)
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