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Ruff Ryders Anthem (L.A. Leakers Freestyle) Lyrics - Artist : Polo G
We back once again
R.I.P. DMX Uh, uh, uh One of the newer reasons they gon' speak on pain When they spit, feel like a therapist I've taught these lil' niggas how to vent They get nominated for shit like I don't spazz on every verse Real soldier tryna let the world know that I was first They call me Capalot 'cause I'ma bug, I'm known to go berserk Lotta anger in me, it's hard to control it when you hurt .762s out the chopper, fold 'em like a shirt They ain't tryna hit the crib, them demons on there when they lurk 90's baby, so I come from Motorolas and them chirps Seen my uncle Mike servin' Coca-Cola, whippin' work Man, R.I.P. Durb, I know he would want me on this beat Get what I deserve, lately, I been goin' on a streak Ain't a homeless nigga on the curb hungrier than me Gon' pass the gang to my son like we Romeo and P All this pill-poppin' kept them demons on me in my sleep Still standin' ten toes, they put my homies underneath You can go out, guns blazin', no indictments in the streets Got a chance to decide, you either Tony or you Meech The rappers from my city got a choice to either die or move From the 'Raq to L.A., to take a L, I refuse Same house as Eazy-E, young nigga with a attitude Book and street smart, I was trappin' out the school Think he hard-bodied,.40 show him he a fragile dude Who the fuck told you just to win that you gotta lose? 'Cause I ain't took a loss yet, strapped up, we all set Kill one of the killers, get back, what we call that? I was in the trenches right before this shit was all rap So when I signed a deal, it was hard for me to fall back Branch to send off hits, a bonus if you get 'em all whacked My shooters on business, and they uniforms all black Bullets hit his collar, I'm coolin' with my shottas They murderin' for dollars, he would do this shit for nada Bulletproof the 'Burban, got me feelin' like Obama Married to the game, fuck the student, I'm a scholar Snakes at my back door, I'm ten steps ahead of you Come through, tap dancin' on your block, that's what my steppers do Pump a kick and leave, his body's floatin' like a edible So playin' with the gang, that ain't smart, that's what I'm tellin' you They'll tear your shit up like tornadoes if I tell 'em, "Spin" Good in any city, telly's only time I'm checkin' in Pop out, get your club lit, and we brought them weapons in And I'm with them thugs, bitch, a bunch of disrespectful men If this FN get to blowin', you ain't catchin' wind 'Posed to be his dawg, shit got real, nigga left his friend They don't wanna see me, it don't matter who you recommend Ballin', they can't stop me, think they coach gon' need a better plan Uh, I think they coach gon' need a better plan What I say, look, uh, uh, uh Stop, shop, out the pound, rollin' up opps Blow, score, that's how Too Turnt Gang roll On foenem Ayy, look, look, I really stayed in the same house as Eazy-E in Calabasas And it's-, and it's crazy to me 'cause I don't fuck with the police, either On foenem Hall of Fame, Hall of Fame |
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