Lyrics Psychopathic Rydas

Psychopathic Rydas

Dumpin

"Yea you got the album, now meet Bullet, Foe Foe, Cell Block, Full Clip And i'm Lil' Shank, diss' Psychopathic Rydas motha' fucka'"

Cut'em all out when ya bust is found

Pop, pop, biggity bop, that be the sound

Low down wit' the master hump (bump bump!)

Buckin' wit' the master Pump (dump dump)

Jump, jump go 'da town when the Rydas on

Pump, pump go the bucket with a dawg of his own

At your funeral your dead, but that aint nuttin

Best bet badass Bullet be Dumpin'

From the East-side out to the Southwest

Psychopathic Rydas puttin' slugs in your chest

Bitch, nobody move heads down!

You don't wanna see me clown, mother fucka!

Psychopathic Rydas Dumpin'

Psychopathic Rydas hey! (2x)

We doin' ride-by's, on freestyle bikes

I hit a wheely on a motor, bustin' out on site

I give a f**k bitch, talk shit and get clipped

Knock your fuckin' teeth through your lip (yea!)

Actin' wild as f**k, cuz' my jam came on

"And you know thug niggas gotta sing that song!)

I got 18 shot's ,(buck buck), and I won't miss once

All black trucks with the bumps

Shootin' out the window, every single time the wind blow

Blazin' up another bag a indo

Foe Foe be the alias

Run up on you bare, bitches, so you scared of us (Westside!)

Ima pull my trigga', and peel yo' cap

My money runnin' low and I needs my sack

Yo' 6-4 is bumpin' and I needs me a ride

Lean to the right lane and then i'll slide

Lay yo' ass out on the cold cement

Before I dump in that ass ima scream, I said "See ima Ryda!"

(Overlap)(Full Clip)

Oh see, mu' fuckas like me

We don't give a f**k, it's like "what what!?"

You wanna come steppin'? then i'll hafta see ya

Leave ya open an burnin' like a case of gonnarhea

From some old dirty bitch that you was humpin

And pumpin like my gauge bitchass, we dumpin'!

Stick your mother fuckin' hands up

Got to have mine cocked, close your eyes i'm finna dump

Commin' out the register wit' all that green and cheddar cheese

To bad you seen me, nigga please

Move fast, bloody cash on the floor...gotta

Make my way to the fuckin' door...gotta

Make my way to the hideout

Who dunnit? yea they tryin' to find out

Now, i'm on the street, wit' my swerves

Cops, tryin' to catch cuz' i'm on the swerve

But ima clever mother fucker never catch me

And if they come my direction they gone' catch these Dumpin'!