|
Ruff Ryders - The Hood lyrics
Shit this shit right here...is for the thugs in the street Do yall here me? Shit and this shit right here...will get you mugged in the street [Beanie Seagal] Beanie Segal hit hard and I'll wire ya jaw Trademark niggas eyes give them perminant scars Twist backwards never catch me rollin' cigars Only cock and blow dro out of perservative jars On the block serving like I never heard of the law Cops hit the spot fuck it, mad bro to bar Fuck crack, flip powder, I aint takin' a loss Plus if I get snatched, its less time for the song I was been known to stroll the block, hold the glock Blow dro, pick up doe, reload the spot I'm the shit with crushed ice and some arm and hammer I'm the reason why smokers steal car antenna's I get bricks, so you know I make big nicks the size of Chiclets, that make you pricks sick While you try to profit, i just flip quick Ya niggas know my flow be sick, my doe be quick [InfraRed?/NuChild?] Now when you wake up I'm wiping the cold out your eys with the barrel of the gun Holding your son, smoking Branson Blowing smoke in your face, I want the ransom and some His shit'll get the opposite of handsome I mean I got to come clean I've done bagged up and served every fiend MC in the feds magazine I'm what y'all haven't seen I swallow kerosene and piss out gassoline Strike a match and burn the fucking scene I'm no joker - I could blow you in the smoke and make your man a second hand smoker. I'm so vulgar - I'm sendin' niggas straight back to their maker Broke, with a PlayStation for a CD player, see me player? I dont even play that shit I just spit and have the whole hood sayin' my shit Yall got a bible? Well pray in that shit While I smoke a scripture, reload, niggas come to rip ya [InfraRed?/NuChild?] Peep the illest shit that I ever wrote Gun up in your mouth, hands around your throat Choke nigga choke, I'm dope Roll me up and smoke, on contact Niggas react, and play me back For doe, I'll murder ever nigga not on this track I spit back, at any nigga claimin' he teflon The best don? Be the next nigga get stepped on A sick dude, type to ask God "You wanna battle?" "I could care less, send me hell I like to travel" After waxin' him, I wax you Smack you, clap you, and thats two Niggas I left lookin' like statues I have to, bring it to these cowards that talk hard Some jail shit? Never even walked through a junk yard I thump hard Make a nigga yell for crew quick A true bitch, eat a nigga up like a chew-stick Too rich, is what I plan to be in the 9-9 Its all mine, Fagots ride bench when its crunch time So bump mine, make a nigga lean off the opium You ethiopian Willie niggas, we scoping 'em, and roping 'em Do a nigga Rosewood style Hangin' by his weak picture, callin' his moms and his child [Mysonne] Its Mysonne, lefty, gun up in the right palm Poppin' niggas in their sleep so they die calm Kill or be killed, thats the that I'm on Its desparoto style, shooting at them side arm I'm bomb, see I'm dope like heroin And my guns got scopes, so they zero in From here on in, know I fear no men And mutherfuck shootin' five, here go ten Know that if you start a problem, there's no end You tough? Fight death and be a hero then Niggas call me Poppiseed, I'll pop your seed And move bricks on the block thats too hot to breath I'm a real type of nigga, that cock and squeeze Y'all them second guess fagots, that cock and freeze So I fuck with real niggas, like The Lox and D And yall niggas got problems, just watch and see [Drag-On] I'm the kid with the unlaced boots, but'll lace you Leave a hole in your facial, the size of a bagel All my bullets hit, never graze you If you never was shit, I'ma promise you this I'ma front page you, I'ma young'n The first one there, and the last one to get to running Unless you tell me the cops coming Cuz I like to feel assed out, so when they trap me I blast out I'm quiet my gun gotta bad mouth I wake up with the mad south You know how many chinks and jews Drag's done dragged out, on a cash route? Cuz when I walk in, stop the talking I dont give a fuck if its a nigga with a walkman I'ma put him in a coffin Soon as I step in I'm runnin' up on the nigga with the thick lens I'm tryin to get the benz with the thick rims Double R, soon half of us'll goto jail The rest? The studio, 16 bars to post bail |
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Time on Earth by Crowded House |
 Call Me Irresponsible by Michael Buble |
 Version by Mark Ronson |
 Kina by Kina |
 Years Later by Soulja Slim |
