lirik lagu psychopathic rydas - rydin' 4 life
psychopathic rydas… ryde on these b-tches… forever
and a day… y’all know how we do… it’s westside till
we d-izz-ie… eastside till we d-izz-ie… worldwide.
rydin’! rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
now we rydin’ on these b-tches, ain’t no mercy in my
eyes
with the rydas by my side
screamin’, “die, muf-cka, die!”
never hesitate
all up in the escalade
b-mpin’ sounds from the rydas, straight dumpin’
always into somethin’
gats on my hip, hangin’ out the window
blazin’ indo
lookin’ for a narc or a nympho
breathin’ this pollution always dancin’ with the
streets
with my heat
can’t be beat
get in mind
and we rydin’
i’ma ryde
i got a hatchet on my side
long time ago, i was born to ryde
straight up detroit psychopathic ryda
only real mission here is takin’ you higher
but we gets f-cked up and that’s a fact
we roll down your streets, pumpin’, shootin’ off gats
so what the f-ck b-tch, why you wanna get shot?
you in the midst of the rydas and cell block
rydin’! rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
i was 10-years-old, a lil’ scruffy
already rydin’, grippin’ a black huffy
so
buffy my picky-lo
b-tchy-ho
i’m the last jiggi-lo
fo’ rilly tho
on the dealio
about this crew
you don’t join this sh-t… we come to you
only a chosen few
that know the pros and cons
f-ck the mafia, we froze the dons
stakes in bonds
i’m in a cashmiere sweater
the better your cheddar
the wetter you get her
and never let her -ss what she don’t need to know
’cause the flossin’ will kill ya for sho’
i know
i had to kill a deputy
tryin’ to question me
about equity
i coulda let it be
but my skrilla comes first
till you see this ryda rydin’ a he-rs-
rydin’! rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’? rydin’ b-tch, no time for hidin’
rydin’ is for a perfect balance in time
rydin’ a, grippin’ oversized black trucks
rydin’ b, grip a hatchet in your hand, whut?! whut!?
rydin’ c, fellow rydas always got your back
rydin’ d, and phones, me, and my b-mps, and my
cadillac
holdin’ heaters to ryda haters heads
ryda e, i’m a ryda and then some, ’nuff said
you wanna ryde
well b-tch, tell me why
you wanna be hard, think i’m mr. nice guy
but i ain’t, i’m the one they call cell block
carry two colt .45’s and a glock
ready to pull out, so b-tch squeeze that
itchy trigger finger on the side of my gat
five seconds later he was on the ground
i got in my truck and peeled off with his pound
rydin’! rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’! rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
straight up rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
hatchet rydin’!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
rydin’! rydin’!
that’s for life!
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