Ken Wallace - Ready to Rock Ruff Rhymes lyrics

Published

0 114 0

Ken Wallace - Ready to Rock Ruff Rhymes lyrics

Intro: Aight, 1-2 yeah yeah yeah (Yeah son) On the mic one time (No diggedy) For your motherf**in mind *Ready to rock rough rhymes* Yeah We're gonna set it off one time *Ready to rock rough rhymes* Here we go, yeah yeah (Yo P, yo D why them b**hes be on your dick, let em know son) Verse 1: PMD, C-Dogg Cos I does a little dance, make a little love I get the f** down tonight Yo I'm lethal like injections, teachin n***as lessons I fry that a** up like I'm Wessun So come equipped and I don't slip (why?) Cos if you slip I sink that a** just like a ship I got the mic in my grip, the heat is on my hip Just in case n***as wanna flip I see my n***as in sight, everything aight Comin out of f**in Crown Heights Ain't no chips on my shoulder, strictly boulders My sh** be on point like a soldier It's the evil that men do, who we do? I do you and your whole f**in clique Click, the gun is on co*k, n***as need to stop I wet that a** up like a mop Well lord, yeah just to follow my man on the verse It's the C-Dogg yeah time to call a hearse So back up off the mic and let me rumble thru your woofer I got rough but know I'mma get rougher It's the quart drinker so turn up the level I came to get raw plus wicked like the devil It's the no-hold-barred, sh** is wild I got the eye to the double L And I don't be no rookie or no beginner I gets badder than a motherf**in sinner Hook (x8): (*Ready to rock rough rhymes*) Verse 2: C-Dogg, PMD Ready to rock rough rhymes It's the C-Dogg back with 12 new rides Wit the ill all-out tight sh** for your head It's the man that'll make n***a's rhymes proper dead So get ready, always on my worst behaviour Up in the booth yeah breakin mad flavors So back up off the mic and let me show my sk** It's the Scheme, yeah n***as got to chill Peace to my n***a DL wit the beat And peace to all my n***as on Union Street And to ya fake a** n***as keep on walkin A DL year, the whole E is talkin Oh yeah, bringin up the rear and we don't front (Never that n***a) We're comin mad thick and we're on the hunt So why you wanna test and end up in a mess I'm comin mad wilder than the West I leave you sooped like a sale, I never fail I boost a track up like the third rail Fake MC's endangered like a species Your sh** stinks like motherf**in faeces I'm chillin and relaxin in the maxin Your style is improper like a fraction Yo I'm out to get mine (Get yours n***a) Hook Verse 3: Dray, Books Well lemme come and get a little bit, son I'm feelin it, it's the bubbly n***as know the deal I got the steel in case the trouble-be Got more coupe-rs than Isuzu, kid I bruise you Abuse you, my sewer style will confuse you I got the touch so n***as spark the Dutch I'm guaranteed to rip and bend your microphone, now touch and plus We kick that a** back up off just like a Lear See ya and too bad I wouldn't wanna be ya Y'know the deal when I see ya, n***a chalk it up Cos if a n***a think he got the flow, I sop it up So now get up so you can hear the rest of this Yo Boogie Banger show them why we be the best at this Yo, yo n***as bust this, a n***a do justice like day We're walkin down the street, we're watchin b**hes like slay n***as rave and rant but can't get it, dig it sh** is on lock and motherf**ers can't pick it I'm runnin with fools with more j**els than Freddy Bla**y My rap drivin n***as crazy like a taxi Perhaps we should leave ya layin on ya back I'm richer than Richie Rich and quicker with the gat, black! For the cash I bash ya head to make ya stutter Then I hit you with the toast for f**in with bread and bu*ter, cousin n***a a-hah, laugh then stash the tracy The limit's the sky, I'm stayin high like aces But doper, my styles is fat like Al Roker Chiggity choke a n***a to sleep, I don't know ya Biggity blow your mind, f** the beef and f** the swine n***a I'm Hook Son, ha, diggy Das, diggy Das, diggy Das Solid Scheme, word bond son (sh** come thick) Y'nah how we do!

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.