Psychopathic Rydas - Scrimps lyrics

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Psychopathic Rydas - Scrimps lyrics

(Foe Foe:) 24 wit the gold tip, scrimps and juice All platinum wit the gold grip, about to get loose Triple black windows like who dat is? Foe Foe and the Rydas in the big body Benz All my friends is close, and my enemies closer Til wind up pictured, on the have you seen me? poster Sippin on the neach wit hoes feedin me grapes I had to get up out the hood into a gated estate All the haters need to back the f** up Before I back the truck up And leave your crew all shot and stuck up In the hood, all the money in the world ain't nuttin That's why they always hate you for sumthin Muthaf**as! (Full Clip:) Ryda convoy rollin' tough again Black hummer H2 on the 42 spins Scrimp and juice bar, restin in the console Foldaway hatch with the strippers pole Lil Shank comin through wit a gang of chickens And plenty of that nose candy for them hoes that dippin Takin b**hes down, send em home wit limps And I be sippin on my juice and double dippin my scrimps (Chorus: x2) You got that juice and scrimp Don't ride boy You's a pimp (Get your money right) Can I ride wit you? Boy let me ride wit you! (Get your money right) (Bullet:) Get off my plate b**h, my scrimp I walk wit a pimp limp, I'm no simp Im a ryda, even when I walk im ridin In the small of my back is a Glock I'm hidin When I pull out, muthaf**as fo'heads blow out Im one them thugs, the reason you don't go out Me and Lil shank, Full Clip, and Cell Block Ride wit us, we drop you off shell shocked Juice and scrimps, gangsta fury Don't worry, weed man comin through in a hurry And my name, you muthaf**as know my name You won't forget it when I bury one deep in yo brain (Sawed Off:) Seven days a week, sippin juice, eatin shrimp Bubbagump ain't got sh** on me, man I be parlayin' You would think I'd say bye to sea Cause the hood the whole hood smell fishy bu*ter it up dawg! Barbeque, sautéed, pin fried Whatever tall gla** of homemade wine Juice b**h its on! When we chillin, it's like a lunch break Cause thuggin all the time could make a muthaf**a hungry (Chorus: x2) You got that juice and scrimp Don't ride boy You's a pimp (Get your money right) Can I ride wit you? Boy let me ride wit you! (Get your money right) (Cell Block:) Ballin outta control My money folds and bills with big faces And every money is to livin in some suitcases My scrimp and juice is all swole, and keeps all the rydas tow up On some dime crystal and any luxury Cell Block got the hood unlocked, slangin all types of rock And k** a muthaf**a runnin his spot It's my street, it's my ground and that bump is my sound You can hear my system pound from the other side of town (Lil' Shank:) Since I was knee high to a big wheel I was always determined to role wit a crew of rydas Keeping it real I met Bullet, Foe Foe, Full Clip, Converse, Sawed Off Cell Block all this sh** was unheard But we had mad dreams of makin it big Shrimps and juice, want bu*ter on my lobster bib Pimpin, thuggin, rydin, mashin Seven black trucks parked at the ryda mansion And it don't stop So go ahead wipe that co*ktail sauce off yo chin And count that money man! Psychopathic Rydas all up in this b**h And we don't give a sh** Go ahead and get your shrimp! (Chorus: x4) You got that juice and scrimp Don't ride boy You's a pimp (Get your money right) Can I ride wit you? Boy let me ride wit you! (Get your money right)

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