Whut Rydas Do For Money lyrics

by

Insane Clown Posse


Full Clip in this muthaf*cka, whut!!!
It's all about the money, dead presidents

A ryda ain't sh*t without his money
Ya heard me, whut,,whut...bring it whut!!!

It ain't just the paper chase no more
It's a way of life, f*ck chasin'
Put it in my pocket b*tch, whut!
Yea, money money money ya'll!
Dollars, money, g's, chedda, green, bring it! bring it!"

Once upon a time I was sittin' at a stop light
Countin' my chedda, and shinnin' up the gat, right
Gang tight, never caught slippin'
Fools bullet dippin', straight set trippin'
Hell naw, I ain't lettin' this sh*t ride
Got out, open the door and got inside
Chillin' in the backseat pulled out the heat
Heater to the dome, the car comin' with me what
Matter of fact, f*ck all that
Don't care what time of day or the place I'm at
Just me and my piece restin' in the crease
Between boxers and denim, and everything's co-cheese
Cause I ceased an open an opportunity
Every time a sucker gets caught slippin' next to me
Pockets get lined, everything's lovely
One way a ryda gets down fo' his money, yeah
What rydas do for money
A ryda gets dirty and know they get greedy
b*tch run your pockets, I'll rob the whole city
What rydas do for money
A ryda pulls gats then jacks yo stacks
b*tch run your pockets, or get popped in the back

Pockets on swole now but just not fat enough
I'll do any kind of dirt for a few bucks
There I go, I cased out the spot
Where everything pops
Bass heads and drug rocks
Farmers inside bakin all the cream cheese
But f*ck that sh*t, a ryda got needs
2 jacks and a 9 in the back
Where those hoes at, I'll wipe them off the map
Kicked in the door, b*tch get on the floor
Took them in the back room open the drawer
Get on your f*ckin' knees, turn around
You gettin' stuck f*ck, don't make a f*ckin' sound
Vo-tec centers got emptied in his face
Drawer got took, the house got kicked
My pockets got lined, everything's lovely
Another way a ryda gets down for his money

What rydas do for money
A ryda gets dirty and know they get greedy
b*tch run your pockets, I'll rob the whole city
What rydas do for money
A ryda pulls gats then jacks yo stacks
b*tch run your pockets, or get popped in the back
There's many different ways around to earn yo green
You a ryda, you dunno, Yo it's a money thing
Stackin' yo chips, makin paper
Cause I'll make ya hand over that bank, yeah!
Jackin' that sh*t arouse in the rap game
It won't make a damn difference, it's all the same
This way or that way, it's goin in my pocket
Can't nobody stop it, to me it's all profit
Put your hand down what's yours is mine
Make one wrong move get stabbed in the spine
My pockets been lined and everythings lovely
I told you I can die for my muthaf*ckin money b*tch

What rydas do for money
A ryda gets dirty and know they get greedy
b*tch run your pockets, I'll rob the whole city
What rydas do for money
A ryda pulls gats then jacks yo stacks
b*tch run your pockets, or get popped in the back

Repeats until song ends
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