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letra de yall crew ain't nuthin - the rydas

real rydas up in this b-tch (b-tch b-tch b-tch)
real real rydas up in this b-tch (b-tch)
real rydas up in this b-tch (b-tch b-tch b-tch)
real real rydas up in this b-tch (b-tch)

[chorus: twiztid]
i’m a ryda y’all crew ain’t nothing but soft as sh-t talk, all of y’all frontin’
punk motherf-ckers ain’t down with this only real rydas up in this b-tch let ’em know [x2]

[verse 1: blaze ya dead homie]
kidnap (?) fast you know my pedigree
playing in the game no timeouts or referees
you b-tches could never be on my level or the map
just keep your suit pressed for the dirt nap
my crew is all that (?)
i know that they don’t want it see its (?)
and i keep them guns by the dozens
sh-lls by the hundred so you don’t want no problems it ain’t nothing

[verse 2: boondox]
listen and shut the f-ck up pay attention
turn your headlights off and take your key out the ignition
do you follow a religion i suggest you start praying
see them shooters in the woods, what in world are they sprayin’
see all you (?) taking meetings up with jesus would have (?) at the red light and shot ’em all to pieces
ya crew wasn’t sh-t now you out here riding solo
6 dead homies pistols pointed at your polo

[verse 3: king gordy]
my name is van dyk- gordy i’m a f-cking gang leader
come to shoot your whole porch up i know today’s easter
and you on your way to church and got your dumb-ss murked
just because you had the wrong hood on your t-shirt
i’m a eastside k!lling ak-47 shooter put the fear of god in your chest he screaming hallelujah
knock you out your boots just how ima do him
c-ck the ruger mop your top until the doctor say (we lose him!)

[verse 4: jamie madrox]
all my rydas on a come up streets ain’t never easy
blindfold birdbox b-tches you’ll never see me
and if it ain’t business or family then its beneath me
heavens waiting for me but the streets wanna keep me
still rydin’ the same its not a game so we panned away the bullsh-t and the real rydas remained
keep it pushing ain’t a d-mn thang changed but the year for the og rydas its right here

[verse 5: young wicked]
(slug)
i’m the motherf-cking dope man
i got money off the pop like the c0ke can
y’all sweeter than some f-ckin’ powdered toast man
-ssed out i’m smoking you like a roach (d-mn)
east side. west side they all getting service
i’ve been over sellin’ rock and committing murders
flippin’ birdies while you mothaf-ckas flipping burgers
lil’ slug on the back of my ryda jersey

[verse 6: monoxide]
i got a mothaf-ckin’ problem with everyone so i’m rydin on anyone not a ryda
b-tch you must look a llama (?) but i’d rather find a cause of the drama
put my b-lls in the jaws of they mommas
cause your families involved when you f-ck with the rydas
and get raggedy like a saw when it cuts through the drama
i got memories of it all every bullet deposit
i got your mom and them hiding in a godd-mn closet

[verse 7: g-mo skee]
aye they call me miller low life cause when i hold mics it look like i’m finna knock back a whole pint
m double l call me meezy for short
i’m finna get a f-ckin’ olde and some ‘ports
and y’all n-ggas ain’t about sh-t we got y’all surrounded
i smash a 40 bottle on your head after i down it
i’m wilin’ shooting at your feet with the mallet
now dance n-gga dance america’s got talent
dreadhead n-gga finna sh-t on your crew
need some screws for my brain cause i’m missing a few
i put my foot in your -ss now theres sh-t on my shoe
and when i die make sure i’m still grippin’ a brew (meezy)

[chorus]

- the rydas

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