Dem b*tches lyrics

[Intro: Bullet]
b*tch, you know who the f*ck run it!
We run it!
We always have and always will, motherf*cker!
What?

[Chorus: Foe Foe]
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!)

[Verse 1: Lil' Shank]
I play the chickenheads, the way the chicken heads should be playin'
Got no time to listen to the squawkin' that they be sayin'
You can eat this di*k up 'til these balls break the chin up
I really have no preference whether you swallow or spit up
You's a trick b*tch, I got no love for a trick, b*tch
Only good for suckin' and massagin' on this di*k, b*tch
Got no love for b*tches, never did and never will
Catch me f*ckin' chunky-ass b*tches with them high heels
[Verse 2: Bullet]
Them b*tches don't know about this Detroit mafia
Hoods and black trucks, khakis and black chucks
I put a bullet hole dead in your cheek
They'll find the back of your head is scattered all up in the street (Blaugh!)
Two reasons: Number one, you's a trick
Number two: You ask a lot about my personal sh*t (Uh-uh)
So tell me, is you a mark? I ain't takin' no chance
I'd rather blow your head off and have you sh*ttin' in your pants

[Chorus: Foe Foe & Bullet]
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!, yeah!)
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!)

[Verse 3: Foe Foe]
It ain't a b*tch in this world that I give a f*ck about, know that
Right off the bat, I grab your girl and tell her "Blow that"
Rydas that keep it true, we just wanna bust a nut
On your titties, on your face, or on that fat ass dub, what?
b*tches talkin' like that sh*t's the sh*t
They wanna ride with us, but don't wanna ride this di*k, sh*t
Foe Foe, keep it real as I can
And if you with me, don't forget me, and just give up the ass, b*tch!
[Verse 4: Cell Block & Bullet]
Now who wanna f*ck with a n*gga that be major?
Always on the block, get with hoes through my pager
Pimpin' on the regular, steady slangin' rocks (What?)
b*tch, I'm a Ryda and I keep the gun c*cked (Yeah!)
For any janky b*tch that wanna see me (b*tch!)
The Rydas' real n*ggas, we one with the street (What?)
Where them b*tches? (Ugh!) There them b*tches! (Ugh!)
Eat up on a di*k, 'cuz you can't get with us! (Ay-yay!)

[Chorus: Foe Foe & Bullet]
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do, always!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do, always!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like a ball game? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like they all the same? (Rydas do!)
Who play them b*tches like some old lames? (Rydas do, worldwide!)
Who ride them b*tches like the Soul Train? (Psychopathic Rydas do!)

[Verse 5: Bullet]
You could have a centipede hangin' out your pus*y
I'ma still hit it raw like gushy, smooshy
b*tches better recognize a Ryda, bow down and suck
I'll draggin' by your foot and hangin' out my truck, bumpy
See me on the corner, swiggin' on some drink
If I show up at your door, I expect to hit some pink (b*tch!)
Gang affiliation, meanin' everybody's next to hit it
Seventeen Rydas hit the pus*y, baby b*tch, admit it!