Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Killa Ova Nuttin', artist - Psychopathic Rydas. Date of issue: 03.01.2000
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Killa Ova Nuttin' |
| Yeah, what the hell you know about the Rydas? |
| Black |
| trucks and hoods bitch! |
| Shit, you better check that, |
| hell… |
| Yo! |
| I’m a killa |
| Cap peela |
| Other bitches is wack, but Rydas are for rilla |
| Gimme all your skrilla |
| Your keys to your ride |
| Tell your bitch to leave her purse with the wallet inside |
| Ain’t no frontin' |
| When Cell Block starts dumpin' |
| Through your neighborhood our black trucks be bumpin' |
| Watch your mouth, peep game, and learn somethin' |
| Nigga, check nuts, 'cause I’m killin’ova nuttin' |
| Now I be ridin’with my shotty |
| A fifth of Bicardi |
| My nose snotty |
| In the party |
| Intentions to levitate her body |
| Give a fuck who he with or who he know |
| Let the barrel blow |
| Or a quarrel know |
| Over somethin’that he borrowed, no Do the math |
| On the warpath |
| Makin’predictions to the body count |
| I even blast a hotty now |
| Sprayin’couples 'cause I loved you |
| So fuck you |
| I don’t gang bang 'cause I’m strugglin' |
| Bee-yatch! |
| Yo I’m a killa ova nuttin' |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |
| Now I knew this bitch, yo, she used to love me Buffin’on my pickle, peace, everything was lovely |
| Forties and Swishers delivered to my doorstep |
| Early in the mornin', neden on my woodpeck |
| Livin’lavish, every call beckoned on |
| I’m the big Full Clip and bitches all pause, anyway, with no reason for drama |
| I killed that muthafuckin’bitch and her mama |
| Still doin’drive-bys and leavin’hoes for dead |
| Mislead |
| Is what my homeboy said |
| I ain’t no bitch hoe, end your life on G.P. |
| With ya whole family |
| On the lawn staring at me And I could could give a fuck, get to lookin’at my gat |
| Get to feindin’like a basehead, to leave you hoes flat |
| Two-Gats got my back |
| Killa ova nuttin', that’s a fact |
| Get out my face or get it slapped, bitch |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |
| I was born with the biggest chip on my shoulder |
| I killed little kids and took they strollers |
| I’m older, tie you up instead |
| And blow red lettuce out the side of your head |
| (pa-tow!!) |
| You could die any minute |
| Turn your back, and get a hollow point slug in it You bit it Over nuttin’at all |
| Now they serve peanuts out your skull |
| At barbecues |
| I been wonderin’what the fuck you been lookin’at |
| You know it ain’t no thang for me to get my gat |
| And blow holes in your frame till you look like an afgan |
| Body collapsed, soul fly like Peter Pan |
| Lil’Shank from the hood, raised in bad ways |
| Peel your fuckin’cap 'cause I’m havin’a bad day |
| Hey, you can be a thug if you want to But I’ma be a Ryda bitch, so fuck you! |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |
| Killa ova nuttin', a Ryda ain’t ashamed! |
| Wettin’mothafuckas up over anything! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Pop! |
| Gun em’down, baby down! |
| Dumpin’from the east to the westside of town! |