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ruste juxx - three the squad way lyrics
[into: ruste juxx]
yeah! my n-gga big rock. what up?
yeah! ayo my homie vinnie paz. what up?
yeah! ruste juxx n-gga
check it out, check it out now
[verse 1: ruste juxx]
whoever wrote your rhymes
need to get blindfolded and shot in the head a few times (ugh)
kids get murdered over spittin’ a wack bar
but still everybody want to be a rap star
the money, the fame, the lifestyle
soundin’ like 10 n-ggas in the game right now (godd-mn)
same tracks, same tats, same cable
same style, different city different label
they all bullsh-t and equal to one another
copycattin’ why you gotta sequel another brother?
be original and stop d-ck ridin’
a n-gga steal juxx’s style and you know vic ridin’
born in the streets of new york without a prayer
peace to the president, motherf-ck the mayor
broke n-ggas be poppin’ sprite bottles
ruste juxx f-ckin’ the price is right models, bang!
[interlude: vinnie paz]
yeah!
hahahaha!
pazienza. alright look…
[verse 2: vinnie paz]
you can’t know peace without knowin’ a bomb
and you can’t know allah without knowin’ shatan
anybody f-ck with juxx gettin’ grazed in the arm
’cause the calico sub-machine stay in the palm
.38 under the seat, duffel bag is behind me
if i was you and you was me, i wouldn’t try me
you f-ckin’ with a pig better be a salami
’cause i don’t like pigs i will catch me a homi
its big sh-t, carry me an m and its mean
i push a b-tton and you drop like a vendin’ machine
the pen is pristine, since ’95 been on my dīn
the ak turn your block to a cinema scene
i always have two b-tches that’s a hammer and dime
and f-ckin’ with me is jammin’ on shaq in his prime
you’ll only f-ck with small money and i’m gamblin’ dimes
i punch you in your face and its ambulance time, yeah!
[verse 3: rock of heltah skeltah]
back in the days when we was kids we used to act like we was older
now n-ggas act like little kids and be grown ups (shtupid)
-ss backwards and -ss average
that’s that sh-t, that’ll have the trash, laugh n-ggas (f-ck outta here)
do shtop n-gga you not no number one to motherfunker
youngster get your crew popped though
you ain’t a young buck, you’s a dumb f-ck
run up and get gun b-tted get all your gums bust
i ain’t preachin’ or teachin’, i’m warnin’ n-ggas
i outperform you n-ggas, plus i just got jokes on you n-ggas
like, “how you really gonna stand there iceless?”
talkin’ all this, “you got all this ice sh-t.” – priceless
i could go on for years with this -ssh0l-
to be like, “this skinny jean sh-t is gettin’ outta control to me.”
homie you got b-tch manners, and your b-tch mannish
don’t n0body believe that your clique hammers, f-ck outta here!
[scratches]
be original and stop d-ck ridin’
if i was you and you was me, i wouldn’t try me
everybody want to be a rap star
be original and stop d-ck ridin’
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