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    Az / Lyrics

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    "Uncut Raw" Lyrics

    Az

    Album:
    Genre:Hip-Hop
    Duration:00:03:01
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    Lyrics

    No need for Lato's, pure straight out Bolivia
    Peru, uncut baby, what?

    Life is a struggle, that's why niggas I know stay on the juggle
    Some hustle to double, others hug you to mug you
    Poverty-stricken, they even turn a church kid into stickin
    It seems sickenin, but what? Whatever makes the pockets thickin
    Fuck police and no remorse for the beasts
    that's lost on the streets, that pistol whip a priest for a crosspiece
    Some lost sheep, runnin thru strips, thinkin of top dealers
    Fillin Tek clips, wit 'cop killers' that could stop gorillas
    Shovin a stubnose in buttholes, I'm nutso
    skitzo, clepto, killin shit up throughout the metro
    My thug essence will always keep me plugged with drug investments
    Sketch my reference, takin papers considered preference
    And violations will lead to kidnappin, decapitation
    So what you're facin, is realism that's in activation
    Livin off land with five honeys playin my hand
    Me and fam, sippin off Guinness stout and eatin clams
    It's all part of plans, a vet chillin in Tamps, West and Stans
    Outta state connect, slugs, sex, drugs and grands

    Hook:

    What? For my Height niggas (Uncut)
    Trife niggas (Raw), 25-to-life niggas

    This is as, pure as opium, purified for street players to open em
    space, like three els laced with coke in em
    Shots awoken em, fake uniform takes the portion of
    six trips, to young clips and killers coachin em
    However though, fake ass niggas'll never know
    Cos my method's perfected, I'm movin sceptic and never show
    I'm soon to blow, stack doe, lay on the low
    While I'm sippin Cristal, I mess with Long Island and Moe
    A part of nature, me wan' acres in Jamaica
    Puffin exotic trees without seeds rolled up in leaf paper
    So exhale, cos if I don't live to tell
    then fuck it, if well, I'll see the rest of y'all niggas in hell

    Hook

    So all my good fellas, heroin, coke and weed sellers
    What the fuck cats can tell us if they ain't got bread to bail us?
    Happy to survive, I haven't seen it all, Peter pay Paul
    >From the connivers to the livest, they crack fool
    It's all war, the streets are filled up with guns galore
    Plenty young for war, gettin their minds flunked and sore
    Yo dun, cock the 4.....

    Motherfuckers think we're playin, back em down
    Holdin niggas for high stitches, what? What?
    This song was submitted on March 1st, 2006 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
    Written by Anthony S Cruz, James Gordan.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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