Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Raw, artist - Gudda Gudda. Album song Guddaville (Screwed), in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 09.11.2009
Record label: Big Kanaka - SoSouth
Song language: English
Raw |
| Jae Millz: |
| Yo |
| Hey, yo I heard your coach scream we can’t stop em, we gotta injure em |
| Nigga off top I goes in like I’m entering |
| Young Money red devils all we do is win and then |
| Get our Michael Phelps on with these bitches yeah we swim in them |
| Showing off this man enjoy, scrubs can’t stand this boy |
| If they don’t leave they hood then I’m coast to coast like Brandon Roy |
| And that internet dissin I ain’t got the energy |
| Cuz niggas is tough talkers with queer tendencies |
| Fuck the kid shit im grown and bout my dollars |
| So Ima play Sabathia and you go play Posada |
| Catch this fuckin heat I’m throwing at your fuckin collar |
| And tell Big L I got em once we reach the heavenly father |
| Nigga I rep that up-town, call me Mr. harlem |
| My flow monumental like Madison Square Garden |
| My bitch will air your squadrant, nigga I beg your pardon |
| Don’t get the rest of your motherfuckin kids darkened, Millz! |
| Gudda Gudda: |
| Uhhh, yeah |
| I grab the mic and O.D. |
| like I’m free basing |
| And we control shit, like free masons |
| Oh you a bold bitch, a lot of E taken |
| I pita roll shit, a lot of teeth aching |
| Leave the scene vacant, Young Money cavemen |
| Ice on the rims, so we leave skatin |
| Neck full of gold, wrist full of glitter and |
| When we leave all the hoes follow like twitter |
| Flow sour type bitter, I’m a different type nigga |
| Stomp niggas out yeah we typewrite a nigga, then |
| Put em to bed yeah we night night a nigga, I’m |
| Over your head like the zyguise nigga, I could |
| Get you brain for the right price nigga |
| Cuz these boys is pussy like pie spice nigga, I |
| Steam and cook em like hot rice nigga |
| Misery with the gullotine chop dice niggas, uhhh |
| Mack Maine: |
| Bitch I’m Mack Maine, uh |
| You are now tuned in to one of realist to do this shit |
| I spit proverbs, they spit foolishness |
| I spit the truth and shit, they spittin tall tales |
| If life’s a test, I pass and yall all fail |
| I bring you all hell, my words should be written in red |
| A psychic came up to me one day and this what he said |
| He said «Jermaine, on the mic, I can tell you nice |
| You touch hearts, you might be the second coming of Christ.» |
| I said «No Blasphemy» and proceeded to some other shit |
| Like put my rubber on and holla «Fuck the government!» |
| Respect my mind motherfucka, I’m a rider |
| As long as I’m alive ain’t no law that I abide by |
| Fuck a drive, by we walk up and squeeze to get paid |
| This game ain’t the same, Pac turning in his grave |
| If I dont make it to the top I know Gudda will |
| And I’mma help him call the shots, welcome to guddaville! |