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ram squad - ruff, rugged, and raw lyrics
[chorus: repeat 8x]
how many n-ggas living ruff rugged and raw
(boy backs)
hey yo, im like a flame thrower
top notch name knower
games over cherry red range rover
sold boulders till marijuana took over
freestylist richard allen crack viles
(tommy hill)
live for the gangsters in the club that’ll shank ya
make moves on prowl like a shark for the paper
my mans like a theif in the night
im like a theif in your wife
he awake ya i get you later
(boy backs)
lets take it back 80’s i’ll be picking your wallet
on trial with the state wanna book me solid
rap speech hollers flow like im christopher wallace
baby baby blueface crazy crazy
(tommy hill)
live for the blue g bad b-tches eating sushee
with eppy up in a mansion out in scranton
i stand for ruff rugged raw
and i dont care for the mother f-cking law
and i came here for to tell you all
i do it way big thats the mother f-cking deal
he’s all right but he’s not hill
he’s all right but he’s not hill
[chorus: 8x]
(six nine)
all my n-ggas tattoed up, form legondary statued up
watch your back in my hood n-ggas will sn-tch you up
snake n-ggas be the fake n-ggas
i barely speak cause i dont know how to take n-ggas
only streets put work in the game, now im hurting to gain
old flames even try to throw dirt on my name
on 28 im like the god sent
them richard allen b-tches like where they find him
he be with hill in that big range
you see them n-ggas with them big chains
they be gettin big doe they be doing big things
hoes flock when i walk through the old block
i got it locked my n-gga feece run the whole block
ghetto superstar chains shine when the sun out
my n-ggas leave the club its real with they guns out
life is like a fantasy up in the hood
still catch me in a hooptey rolling up backwards
ain’t no jailing ain’t no telling the felons feelings
charlie never been convicted for the dealing
con never been convicted for the k!lling
but in an instant hill trust me i will k!ll him
[chorus: 8x]
(suave)
conquered the game sick n-gga 5 to a 6 n-gga
6 figgas got it stacked up rich n-gga
who you spittin for thugs or them broads
me i spit for the elite with heat
i stay low key ride the hooptey yeah you know me
c-ck sucker blow me legand like opey
stack grands usually spend it on goochie
linen in the prada joints short sleeve cool g
chain smackin my b-lls wrist semi gloss
lights out arm to the moon its back on
i can’t help how these broads wanna f-ck me man
got a ?? be grand d-mn lovely fam
i spit bars that hang glide bump in your ride
bring it on your wrong right im out smoking 9
let a n-gga hit a thousand bars like miles to mars
star or a no name n-gga i k!ll em all
[chorus 8x]
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