Uncut Raw lyrics

Artist  : Az 
Song : Uncut Raw



 Send "Uncut Raw" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

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?