Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song So Ruff, artist - Redman. Album song Whut? The Album, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1991
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
So Ruff |
Do you feel that the Blacks in your community |
Are still mad at the racial situation? |
Yeah, they still mad |
And if you don’t take that funny smirk off your face |
I’mma kick your… |
Over three hundred ghetto-related crimes happened |
In Newark, New Jersey alone — still the saga continues |
Stick 'em up, stick 'em up! |
I got the jammy to your guts, punk |
Don’t make a move! |
Before I choose to make your guts run |
All over the block, 'cause my stomach’s in a knot |
And it growls twenty-four hours a day around the tick-tock |
I got roaches and rats up the back, carryin' bats and gats |
So I *farting noise* 'fore I snack, Jack |
Because I’m not down with water from the hydrant |
My moms taking a bath and my brother’s next to dive in |
I gotta think of a plan so I can eat |
I haven’t had a cracker for weeks so my mouth leaks |
I squad up, 'cause I’mma set up this kid |
Carryin' loot out from Burger King and what I’mma do is… |
Run up on him, snatch the bag of money, then bust the dummy! |
'Cause, my man, when I think of a plan, there’s no shorts take |
'Cause I pack jammies inside of my North Face, coat |
Had the black brother on scope |
No joke’s what I am 'cause the man’s a pure pro |
(Yo, my man you got a light? |
Yeah, give me the effin' money too, G!) |
Yo, STOP, STOP, STOP! |
Took the money then I dipped with the quickness |
The plan went well, so I got down to the business |
Opened up the bag, it was filled with paper |
I thought I freaked the funk but now starts the caper |
'Cause I was set up, now I have to go head up with the cops |
But they carryin' black Glocks (Shit's thick!) |
What’s my next move? |
My life’s on the line |
Bullets in their clips and none in mine |
Sirens on, once again it’s on |
I fell (OW!) and then the black Glocks went (POW!) |
I got snuffed and I got bust |
Now the only thing I’m sniffin' is dust, because it’s… |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
Me and Erick Sermon taking a trip Uptown |
In the 4Runner, blastin' my tape, puffin' ganja |
Since Erick got props |
I stepped to this hottie with more damn body than a chop shop |
Flexed the jewels then she chose to talk to me |
It was no doubt that baby cakes was hawkin' me |
So I kicked it, upped the digits, terrific |
Not knowin' she was scopin' me 'cause I was MAD splifted |
Later on that week, honeydip freaked the funk |
Playin' Redman and Erick out like two chumps |
Callin' him weekdays, callin' me weeknights |
(Who had her weekends?) Whichever man would freak right |
Things got cozy one night like dynamite |
We stripped to bare backs and took care of the bare facts |
(No hats? Damn, black) The Funkadelic |
Took a splash — you know how that go, fellas |
Two months later (See you later, alligator) |
She was pissed and, I ended up seein' my physician |
She took a blood test, she took a head check |
Looked at me thinkin', «Why the hell he isn’t dead yet?» |
Then I asked her, «Why you lookin' at me?!» |
She said, «Redman, because you have the HIV» |
Called Erick and his set, that girl, don’t mess around! |
Too late, 'cause Erick already had his drawers down |
'Cause it’s |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
'Cause it’s so rough |
To all my brothers, wear your hats, wear your hats |
You can either get with this or you can either catch the claps |
And to my sisters, make 'em wear they prophyl-lastic |
'Cause it’s drastic, havin' another ghetto bastard |
Think I’m dying for a piece of butt? |
Honey, you must be nuts |
You better settle for a wet kiss, so pucker up |
'Cause you end up messin' around catchin' the heebie jeebies |
Lookin' like «WHODUNNIT?» |
Witcha face up on the TV |
So next time you want sex, get wreck, but protect |
'Cause you could be like sexin' to your last death |
And if you still don’t know the time, press rewind |
'Cause the next thing you might hear is a flatline |
Word |