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Mr. Groove

Mr. Groove


Rydah (ft. Big Tucc)

Music Genre: 
SKU: TRK-1414-37627
Content Guide: 

A true OG in these streets I'm a Rydah
Respect is due, keep your distance from me
God bless my soul you can see I'm a Rydah
You hear that (shot) and your soul is with me

1st Verse
I paint a perfect picture, on the block I'm a fixture with the burner cocked ready to split ya. Heed my words like the scripture, it's going down every time I come around just to stir up the mixture. I part values like a bar in division and fire off like a piston when the pound is in vision, pumpin raw venom. It's just the boss in em, to pop clips and stack chips explode on contact like terrorists. I'm classic acid flow through to my veins while you entertain the thought, I'm the cause for the flame. To leave your cardiac arrested, your soul molested. Expose your thoughts when the chrome's ejected. I'm from the wild west and I rep it, what you expect. Trespass and catch a blast from that criminal set. I'm in a zone unconscious, make you loose your conscious when the chrome get nauseous and spit vomit, I'm on it.

2nd Verse
What's crackin partna, I told ya'll niggaz whats happening, now I'm back with the force of a magnum. On the mainline flashin (pow) this is the year of the dragon so don't go and stoke the flames of passion. I'm the shit in any dialect spoke, a decorated veteran groovin on hundred spokes. I play the post with a vengeance, and precision till my sentence is death by any means I collar greens and respect, want nothing less. So god bless your soul cuzz the thunder rolls daily. And the Doppler Radar predicts the storm to be crazy. My 64 pancaked ass scrapin the plate with 4x wires, powder coat matchin the paint. I bring the funk to the block and pump the base in broad day and when the night fall I put them burners out in display. I'm creased up with two pieces tucked into my waist and for the paper I riot like an emergency state cuzz I'm a...

3rd Verse
I'm a nigga with an attitude sick on that criminalistic shit, trafficking them bricks of sniff. Got that side arm pitch to get rich, that strong arm deliver the fix just to burn up the strip. And violate every ordinance to ever exist, as I eliminate any enemy in my mist. I'm a gorilla, a stone cold killa with the desire to bring forth fire like Al Quid a and ride. I give my clips an extension with dishonorable mention, murderous intention cyclops burning through your position, I'm hot like hell's kitchen (yeah) The groove is brazen, so they stare in amazement while I rip up the pavement. High like elevation, dodgin all they surveillance, clips stay in rotation I'm guilty by my association. So fuck it, either you ride or you die, I got the keys in the ignition clipped up to certify that I'm a rydah.


New track by Mr. Groove from the forthcoming feature release entitled "Boss Muzik"

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