Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song R.N.S., artist - Slaughterhouse. Date of issue: 04.06.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
R.N.S. |
| Once upon a time in the projects, yo |
| I’m at a cee lo game and my dice hit 4 |
| That nigga rolled a 3 but I ain’t get my dough |
| My hammer got a red light on it but I let that go |
| My whole life hidin' from the 5−0 |
| Sirens loud outside of my door |
| Shortys screamin', «You's a wild nigga» |
| Lil' bitch actin' like she ain’t know |
| I put in that work, my name rings those bells |
| Niggas know not to play with Joell |
| Niggas know not to play with my money |
| Cause niggas know I’m not taking that L |
| I’ve been in these streets all of my life |
| Had niggas' teeth all in my nikes |
| Had white sheets all in my heat |
| Had white meat all in my knife |
| My nigga it’s real nigga shit |
| Big pound on my chest |
| Big pound on my waist, nigga hit pound R N S |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
| R.N.S |
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| R.N.S |
| Once upon a time on the Jersey City dock |
| Had my truck parked in that corner, had them 18s on yappa |
| When a nigga ran up on that bicycle, with his hand on that Glock |
| Tryna get his blast on with that mask on |
| But I thank God it ain’t pop |
| Thank God it jammed on him, jammed on him |
| Pay for havin' that drop |
| If he was in our shoes, he woulda killed us too |
| So we ran straight to them cops |
| That was fun homes, it’s cool |
| See you when you come home, you get a time wait |
| None of my niggas gon' tell on you |
| We’ll turn anything 'fore we turn state |
| Just real shit, O’s around |
| No sausage party, keep hoes around |
| My dame come and we treat her like that |
| She come around, she goes around |
| She gon' call her friend up |
| Tell her 'bout that money we throw around |
| And then go blow her jack up |
| To holla at a nigga they know I’m in town |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
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| R.N.S |
| Once upon a time in North Long Beach, yo |
| Somebody was knockin' at my door |
| It’s my homie, and he from Compton |
| Told me he heard some niggas was plottin' |
| To come up to my spot and leave me shot |
| And bleedin' prolly from a problem from the past |
| Get that Kevlar and guard your chest |
| Stand your ground but watch your step, my nigga, that’s R.N.S |
| Now I circle the block before I pull in the house |
| I guess a couple killers like hidin' in my hedges |
| Word on the street, they heard about the Bentley |
| Park that shit, ride in my Lexus |
| With two TEC-9s, kind of ironic how I’m ridin' with TECs |
| Bout to send my rivals a message |
| Cold as the ice in my necklace |
| I’m feelin' like I’m in Vietnam with insomnia |
| Or a kamikaze in Bosnia |
| Cause it’s so hard to rest |
| When you’re at war with killers and that’s R.N.S |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
| I ain’t ever ran on my niggas, never took a stand on my niggas |
| I will never jam up my niggas, real nigga shit, R.N.S |
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