So Ruff Lyrics
| Song | So Ruff |
| Artist | MC Eiht |
| Album | N' My Neighborhood |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Hoo-bang, nigga | |
| Some of that futuristic shit | |
| For that ass | |
| Keepin it thuggish, though | |
| Check it out | |
| [ verse 1 ] | |
| The concrete streets bring heat, it's so rough | |
| Niggas test everyday, calling your bluff | |
| Eiht had enough, i'm smoking my fluff | |
| Spitting game, letting you know my turf is tough | |
| My theme is i push music to driveby | |
| I slide through, scoop up four and ride high | |
| Strap under the seat my hood technique | |
| As i destroy your block like _dante's peak_ | |
| Feel me, partly a killer, clocker for fun | |
| On my turf puttin in work since day one | |
| Y'all ain't heard enough about a nigga singin the blues | |
| Niggas bendin in two's while y'all watch the news | |
| John walsh, wash me up, you're crazy | |
| Havin my face captured 180 | |
| Can't go there, ain't havin that, man, fuck | |
| The strap turned me corrupt, so prepare to duck | |
| [ chorus ] | |
| Sometimes in the hood it's so rough | |
| That makes niggas from the hood stay tough | |
| Slings packs, pack straps, quarters and halfs | |
| 16, double the stash, you do the math (2x) | |
| [ verse 2 ] | |
| I guess my mind's on the track, gotta get me a stack | |
| And in fact, homebody, you know what gun i pack | |
| Keeps y'all enemies close that stay cheatin | |
| When they ask make fast and start heatin | |
| Niggas ain't fuckin around - dodge mine | |
| Drop yours, bitch, and lay that ass down | |
| Keep your face to the ground, don't even look | |
| No positive id and all the money was took | |
| Shook the hell up out the spot and kept away from snitches | |
| Took a trip across town just to floss my riches | |
| Bitches turn into niggas and start yappin | |
| One more hit on your house where y'all nappin | |
| Dumpin one, catch you in the midnight, the late night hour | |
| The hollow point shower | |
| The sweet success thatt you taste has got sour | |
| Straight, eiht regulate my thug power | |
| [ chorus ] | |
| [ verse 3 ] | |
| My niggas disappoint me thinkin y'all can fade it | |
| Still player-hated, wishin y'all made it | |
| Stay down, hoo-bangin niggas takin over | |
| G's in lows puttin holes up in a rover | |
| Told ya, stop tryin to walk in our shoes | |
| Real thugs hail from the west, first rule | |
| In fact, we the first bloods and crips | |
| First niggas to drive by sendin tricks on trips | |
| First niggas to hit yo town and set up shop | |
| Bring the prices down low, y'all pick the rest to cop | |
| Copy cats, now y'all dippin lows with heats | |
| Pepetratin fresh coast, tryin to roll our streets | |
| Hate your sight, catch you on a red-eye flight | |
| Commence the sweatin the groove just for spite | |
| Lucky though, i give you a pass and let you go | |
| I'ma catch you on the road at another rap show | |
| [ chorus ] | |
| Geah | |
| Hoo-bang, nigga | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough | |
| Geah | |
| Westside, you know | |
| Sometimes in the hood it's so rough | |
| Geah, you know what we do | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Hoobang, nigga | |
| Some of that futuristic shit | |
| For that ass | |
| Keepin it thuggish, though | |
| Check it out | |
| verse 1 | |
| The concrete streets bring heat, it' s so rough | |
| Niggas test everyday, calling your bluff | |
| Eiht had enough, i' m smoking my fluff | |
| Spitting game, letting you know my turf is tough | |
| My theme is i push music to driveby | |
| I slide through, scoop up four and ride high | |
| Strap under the seat my hood technique | |
| As i destroy your block like _dante' s peak_ | |
| Feel me, partly a killer, clocker for fun | |
| On my turf puttin in work since day one | |
| Y' all ain' t heard enough about a nigga singin the blues | |
| Niggas bendin in two' s while y' all watch the news | |
| John walsh, wash me up, you' re crazy | |
| Havin my face captured 180 | |
| Can' t go there, ain' t havin that, man, fuck | |
| The strap turned me corrupt, so prepare to duck | |
| chorus | |
| Sometimes in the hood it' s so rough | |
| That makes niggas from the hood stay tough | |
| Slings packs, pack straps, quarters and halfs | |
| 16, double the stash, you do the math 2x | |
| verse 2 | |
| I guess my mind' s on the track, gotta get me a stack | |
| And in fact, homebody, you know what gun i pack | |
| Keeps y' all enemies close that stay cheatin | |
| When they ask make fast and start heatin | |
| Niggas ain' t fuckin around dodge mine | |
| Drop yours, bitch, and lay that ass down | |
| Keep your face to the ground, don' t even look | |
| No positive id and all the money was took | |
| Shook the hell up out the spot and kept away from snitches | |
| Took a trip across town just to floss my riches | |
| Bitches turn into niggas and start yappin | |
| One more hit on your house where y' all nappin | |
| Dumpin one, catch you in the midnight, the late night hour | |
| The hollow point shower | |
| The sweet success thatt you taste has got sour | |
| Straight, eiht regulate my thug power | |
| chorus | |
| verse 3 | |
| My niggas disappoint me thinkin y' all can fade it | |
| Still playerhated, wishin y' all made it | |
| Stay down, hoobangin niggas takin over | |
| G' s in lows puttin holes up in a rover | |
| Told ya, stop tryin to walk in our shoes | |
| Real thugs hail from the west, first rule | |
| In fact, we the first bloods and crips | |
| First niggas to drive by sendin tricks on trips | |
| First niggas to hit yo town and set up shop | |
| Bring the prices down low, y' all pick the rest to cop | |
| Copy cats, now y' all dippin lows with heats | |
| Pepetratin fresh coast, tryin to roll our streets | |
| Hate your sight, catch you on a redeye flight | |
| Commence the sweatin the groove just for spite | |
| Lucky though, i give you a pass and let you go | |
| I' ma catch you on the road at another rap show | |
| chorus | |
| Geah | |
| Hoobang, nigga | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough | |
| Geah | |
| Westside, you know | |
| Sometimes in the hood it' s so rough | |
| Geah, you know what we do | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Geah | |
| Hoobang, nigga | |
| Some of that futuristic shit | |
| For that ass | |
| Keepin it thuggish, though | |
| Check it out | |
| verse 1 | |
| The concrete streets bring heat, it' s so rough | |
| Niggas test everyday, calling your bluff | |
| Eiht had enough, i' m smoking my fluff | |
| Spitting game, letting you know my turf is tough | |
| My theme is i push music to driveby | |
| I slide through, scoop up four and ride high | |
| Strap under the seat my hood technique | |
| As i destroy your block like _dante' s peak_ | |
| Feel me, partly a killer, clocker for fun | |
| On my turf puttin in work since day one | |
| Y' all ain' t heard enough about a nigga singin the blues | |
| Niggas bendin in two' s while y' all watch the news | |
| John walsh, wash me up, you' re crazy | |
| Havin my face captured 180 | |
| Can' t go there, ain' t havin that, man, fuck | |
| The strap turned me corrupt, so prepare to duck | |
| chorus | |
| Sometimes in the hood it' s so rough | |
| That makes niggas from the hood stay tough | |
| Slings packs, pack straps, quarters and halfs | |
| 16, double the stash, you do the math 2x | |
| verse 2 | |
| I guess my mind' s on the track, gotta get me a stack | |
| And in fact, homebody, you know what gun i pack | |
| Keeps y' all enemies close that stay cheatin | |
| When they ask make fast and start heatin | |
| Niggas ain' t fuckin around dodge mine | |
| Drop yours, bitch, and lay that ass down | |
| Keep your face to the ground, don' t even look | |
| No positive id and all the money was took | |
| Shook the hell up out the spot and kept away from snitches | |
| Took a trip across town just to floss my riches | |
| Bitches turn into niggas and start yappin | |
| One more hit on your house where y' all nappin | |
| Dumpin one, catch you in the midnight, the late night hour | |
| The hollow point shower | |
| The sweet success thatt you taste has got sour | |
| Straight, eiht regulate my thug power | |
| chorus | |
| verse 3 | |
| My niggas disappoint me thinkin y' all can fade it | |
| Still playerhated, wishin y' all made it | |
| Stay down, hoobangin niggas takin over | |
| G' s in lows puttin holes up in a rover | |
| Told ya, stop tryin to walk in our shoes | |
| Real thugs hail from the west, first rule | |
| In fact, we the first bloods and crips | |
| First niggas to drive by sendin tricks on trips | |
| First niggas to hit yo town and set up shop | |
| Bring the prices down low, y' all pick the rest to cop | |
| Copy cats, now y' all dippin lows with heats | |
| Pepetratin fresh coast, tryin to roll our streets | |
| Hate your sight, catch you on a redeye flight | |
| Commence the sweatin the groove just for spite | |
| Lucky though, i give you a pass and let you go | |
| I' ma catch you on the road at another rap show | |
| chorus | |
| Geah | |
| Hoobang, nigga | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough | |
| Geah | |
| Westside, you know | |
| Sometimes in the hood it' s so rough | |
| Geah, you know what we do | |
| That makes niggas from the turf stay tough |
YouTube Results (More on YouTube)