Ruff Ryders

Ruff Ryders - 2 Tears In A Bucket lyrics

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Uhh, hahah, Ruff Ryders niggaz (all my niggaz)

(All aboard!) Blood in blood out

Funk Doc, Sheek Luc', Meth-Tical (whattup niggaz?)

Yo, yo, aiyyo yo



[Sheek]

Soon as I cop the nine, I pop the nine

When I take it out the box, I represent LOX

Now when I flow, you hit the rewind button

So I charge out more, want it all at the door

Fuck heat, Sheek walk around with an oven

Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill?

How its gon' look when I come through your block?

Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top

Porsche, 300 horse fly by

Back open pumpin "How High?" (How High)

Yeah, can y'all see that (See that) 

Bitch you can call me what you want, 'cuz "I'll Be Dat" (Be dat)

Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels

Long as the condo's paid and the truck I choose

I'm tellin y'all niggas, if its not double R

I'ma spell my name out on the side of your car



[Chorus]

Come and Ruff Ryde with us

If you wanna get high with us

If you wanna get down with us

Come on nooooowwwww

Come and Ruff Ryde with us

If you wanna get high with us

If you wanna get down with us

Come on nooooowwwww



[Redman]

I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw

A five speed clutch on my paw when I write

I glow like the pegs in Lite-Brite

3000 volts of lightning when you fly the right kite

Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes

We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose?

When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip

I hope your shoes fit for this move and pick

I avalanche your camp with, ten feet of snow

I'm cold blooded, my fam half-eskimo

My flows move like indo;

turn ten nickels to ten loads, outta ten sto's

Ride the crash course, do the math on it

Swizz Beats you can ride Amtrak on it

But I'm on it, grillin with George Foreman

Ya peeps is at the Grammy Awards cornin

The ice, the fat wallet son, I want it

And the helicopter warmin before mornin

Def Jam nigga, Redman nigga

Got - "fuck ya momma" on my sweat band nigga

You tough guys'll get smacked in the club

COme with the gun I bought from Mack in the club

Its P-P-P from Bricks to Brook-nam (C'mon)

(C'mon) Bring me some more ass to whoop on



[Chorus]



[Method Man]

Look what the cat dragged in

Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror

Scoop of high yellow Cinderella, Meth forever

Never rush a rhyme, hook could never bust my nine

But if I have to, I have to, it's all in the mind

I stay ahead of time while y'all fallin behind

Tryin to relight ya lime

It's a crime when I drop bomb lines designed

to tick, tick, BOOM blow your mind

Yeah me, M-E-T, H, the O, the D

Can't be done, like tryin to find a penny in the sea

Nigga run, for cover son go and get them guns

Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around here gettin ones

Swizz Beat the track in the head, but I instead

pull my dart gun and bust sixteen until it's dead

I'm the game, all of my dogs be off the chain

Yellin Wu.. Tang, Wu.. Tang



[Chorus]
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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