Rydas Don’t Dance lyrics

[Intro: Bullet & Sweet Daddy Coconut]
This is Bullet with my Ryda dog, Full Clip and we be ridin' and ridin' and ridin'!
And check this out, we don't...
Oh sh*t, here comes Sweet Daddy Coconut...
Me, when I walk up in the club... (Uh-huh...)
I be havin' the motherf*ckin' toolie in my waist (That's right...)
Motherf*ckers be mean-muggin' me, throwin' they little fifty dollars down for they cup of Crissy and what not (Heh, chumps)
Hey man, hey look here, player (What's up?)
You ain't even tryin' to see a motherf*ckin' Ryda
'Cause I'll pull out the motherf*ckin' heat and make all y'all boogie

[Verse 1: Full Clip]
Hammer pants, button down sequence shirts
Cabbage patchin', makin' your body twerk
It's all good, the Full Clip steps out on the floor
Pull out the ruger, dancers runnin' for the door (Blahh!!!)
Unload ten, the hot rocks is flyin'
Every rug cutter in this b*tch is dyin'
And once I stretch out all the [?] old fags
I hold down the bar, huntin' for nedens to tag
Every club know the Rydas be true thugs
That's why our carpet burners turn into war hogs
Security give me daps the second I walk in
Drinks on the house, Remy, Coke, and Hen (Yeah!)
Motherf*ckers gotta feel for me, no love
That's why I be wearin' house shoes up in the club
b*tch, I don't dance, but if you wanna boogie (Come on!)
I'll stick a hot barrel in your ass, motherf*cker!
[Interlude: Sweet Daddy Coconut & Bullet]
You see that sparklin' b*tch? (Right)
That's me (Right)
Motherf*ckin' watch on wrist (Right, right), diamonds on motherf*ckin' pinkies (Right)
Motherf*ckin' mink to the floor (Oh!)
You better check this here, player

[Verse 2: Cell Block]
Okay!
A Ryda don't dance (No!), a killer don't talk
Get stupid in the club, leave 'em lyin' in chalk
And stretched out with a couple holes in your body
Ask any one of my n*ggas, we all rowdy ([?])
Get rowdy at the drop of a dime
Dancin' for suckers, real n*ggas ain't got time (What?!)
For you hip-hop b*tches, dance all night long
You know who you are and this is your f*ckin' song (b*tch!)
While you at a club, thinkin' you're a pimp
I'm at home with your woman, slingin' di*k to your b*tch!

[Verse 3: Bullet]
I don't dance, f*ck dancin', I'll make you dance
I'll blow your feet out the bottom of your pants
Leave the jiggy sh*t to Will Smith and Dru Hill
'Cause if I come up in the club, blood gon' spill
Disco lights, faggots like in boogie nights
And little pus*y-whipped pussies get in fist fights
I'll run up in that motherf*cker one time
And have everybody wishin' they was at Columbine
Psych! Silk shirt with finesse
And now you got your blood all over your b*tch's dress!
[Interlude: Sweet Daddy Coconut & Bullet]
As soon as I seen her from afar (Alright)
She had caramel skin with green eyes (Ooh!)
And a skirt that was huggin' ever inch of her hourglass figure (sh*t)
You know I had to dip (Right...)

[Verse 4: Lil Shank with Foe Foe]
Pimpin' like a n*gga out of control ('Scuse me, player)
Watchin' booties jiggle like a Jell-O mold
I step to her and she act real cold (Who are you, n*gga?)
She said "Then I wanna step to the dance floor"
I said that I been known to boogie
But I never get my dance on (Listen here, b*tch)
I said that I been known to boogie
But I never get my dance on (I ain't even with that sh*t)
Now b*tch, do you wanna get down, 'cause I ain't got the time
To play like R. Kelly and try to bump and grind
We can leave this here club and do it right quick
You can slide me some pus*y and I'll shoot you this di*k (Yeah!)

[Interlude: Sweet Daddy Coconut & Bullet]
So basically, how the night ended up
I was sittin' up under some silk sheets (Ooh!)
With this motherf*ckin' caramel little b*tch that I met around the way (Right)
Suppose she has drinked a couple bottles of Crissy, smoked a couple ounces of my finest sh*t (Right, right)
And I did it doggystyle and kicked that b*tch to the curb (Whoo!)
Now it's about 2:30 AM and I'm on way up to 7 Eleven to get me a motherf*ckin' sixer (Yo, you're right!)
'Cause I'm a Ryda, b*tch (Yeah!)
And the motherf*ckin' night don't end (No, no!)
You see these black truck wheels just spinnin' off in the motherf*ckin' moonlight? (Hoo!)
b*tch, you better ask a friend (Yeah!)
And as the sun rises in the mornin' (Right)
I wake up to pimp again hoe (Oh no!)
So all you b*tches with no panties (Oh no!)
Get ready for the Rydas (Yeah!)
'Cause when you see a motherf*cker walkin' in with crocodile on his motherf*ckin' feet (Damn!)
And he might have the matchin' motherf*ckin' belt (Whoo!)
Maybe he got a little silk suit on or some sh*t
You better recognize a player, b*tch, 'cause we don't walk up in this motherf*cker like no chump ass square (Hell no!)
We come in this motherf*cker shinin' with our motherf*ckin' nose in the air, b*tch (Woo-hoo!)
You get the motherf*ckin' privilege to talk to a pimp
b*tch, you better respect that sh*t
You better shut the f*ck and know what the f*ck you're dealin' with here
'Cause Rydas aren't motherf*ckin' dime a dozen, b*tch (Right, right)
You don't see a Ryda around every corner (Uh-uh!), you don't see a pimp around every corner (No!)
So when you get the privilege to speak to a Ryda (Right!)
It means you better shut the f*ck up and understand what it's like to understand this pimpin' (Get the f*ck out, b*tch!)
Understand what I'm sayin' b*tch? (Yeah, yeah!)
See, the game is not mean to be motherf*ckin' told, it's to be sold
So I really don't understand why I'm sittin' here, wastin' my time Educatin' the rest of y'all motherf*ckers on this here Ryda sh*t (That's right!)
On this here pimp sh*t (Well, f*ck!)
On how the f*ck we do it (Right!)
Right, yeah...
b*tch!
Coconut has spoken...
Coconut has spoken...
Coconut has spoken...