| Song | Ready to Rock Rough Rhymes |
| Artist | Das EFX |
| Album | Hold It Down |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Charity, Hines, Lynch, Weston | |
| Intro: | |
| Aight, 1-2 yeah yeah yeah (yeah son) | |
| On the mic one time (no diggedy) | |
| For your mother****** mind | |
| (*ready to rock rough rhymes*----> redman) 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 ******* be on your *************, let em know son) | |
| Verse 1: pmd, c-dogg | |
| Cos i does a little dance, make a little love | |
| I get the ************* down tonight | |
| Yo i'm lethal like injections, teachin *************s lessons | |
| I fry that ass up like i'm wessun | |
| So come equipped and i don't slip (why?) | |
| Cos if you slip i sink that ass just like a *************p | |
| I got the mic in my grip, the heat is on my hip | |
| Just in case *************s wanna flip | |
| I see my *************s in sight, everything aight | |
| Comin out of ****** crown heights | |
| Ain't no chips on my shoulder, strictly boulders | |
| My *************t be on point like a soldier | |
| It's the evil that men do, who we do? | |
| I do you and your whole ****** clique | |
| Click, the gun is on *************, *************s need to stop | |
| I wet that ass 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'ma 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, *************t 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 mother****** 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 *************t for your head | |
| It's the man that'll make *************'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 skill | |
| It's the scheme, yeah *************s got to chill | |
| Peace to my ************* dl wit the beat | |
| And peace to all my *************s on union street | |
| And to ya fake ass *************s keep on walkin | |
| A dl year, the whole e is talkin | |
| Oh yeah, bringin up the rear and we don't front (never that *************) | |
| 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 *************t stinks like mother****** 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 *************) | |
| Hook | |
| Verse 3: dray, books | |
| Well lemme come and get a little bit, son i'm feelin it, it's the bubbly | |
| *************s 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 *************s spark the dutch | |
| I'm guaranteed to rip and bend your microphone, now touch and plus | |
| We kick that ass 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, ************* chalk it up | |
| Cos if 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 *************s bust this, a ************* do justice like day | |
| We're walkin down the street, we're watchin ******* like slay | |
| *************s rave and rant but can't get it, dig it | |
| *************t is on lock and mother*******s can't pick it | |
| I'm runnin with fools with more jewels than freddy blassy | |
| My rap drivin *************s 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 ****** with bread and butter, cousin | |
| ************* a-hah, laugh then stash the tracy | |
| The limit's the sky, i'm stayin high like aces | |
| But ****r, my styles is fat like al roker | |
| Chiggity choke a ************* to sleep, i don't know ya | |
| Biggity blow your mind, ************* the beef and ************* the swine | |
| ************* i'm | |
| Hook | |
| Son, ha, diggy das, diggy das, diggy das | |
| Solid scheme, word bond son (*************t come thick) | |
| Y'nah how we do! |
| zuo ci : Charity, Hines, Lynch, Weston | |
| Intro: | |
| Aight, 12 yeah yeah yeah yeah son | |
| On the mic one time no diggedy | |
| For your mother mind | |
| ready to rock rough rhymes redman 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 be on your , let em know son | |
| Verse 1: pmd, cdogg | |
| Cos i does a little dance, make a little love | |
| I get the down tonight | |
| Yo i' m lethal like injections, teachin s lessons | |
| I fry that ass up like i' m wessun | |
| So come equipped and i don' t slip why? | |
| Cos if you slip i sink that ass just like a p | |
| I got the mic in my grip, the heat is on my hip | |
| Just in case s wanna flip | |
| I see my s in sight, everything aight | |
| Comin out of crown heights | |
| Ain' t no chips on my shoulder, strictly boulders | |
| My t be on point like a soldier | |
| It' s the evil that men do, who we do? | |
| I do you and your whole clique | |
| Click, the gun is on , s need to stop | |
| I wet that ass up like a mop | |
| Well lord, yeah just to follow my man on the verse | |
| It' s the cdogg 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' ma 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 noholdbarred, t 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 mother sinner | |
| Hook x8: | |
| ready to rock rough rhymes | |
| Verse 2: cdogg, pmd | |
| Ready to rock rough rhymes | |
| It' s the cdogg back with 12 new rides | |
| Wit the ill allout tight t for your head | |
| It' s the man that' ll make ' 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 skill | |
| It' s the scheme, yeah s got to chill | |
| Peace to my dl wit the beat | |
| And peace to all my s on union street | |
| And to ya fake ass s keep on walkin | |
| A dl year, the whole e is talkin | |
| Oh yeah, bringin up the rear and we don' t front never that | |
| 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 t stinks like mother 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 | |
| Hook | |
| Verse 3: dray, books | |
| Well lemme come and get a little bit, son i' m feelin it, it' s the bubbly | |
| s know the deal i got the steel in case the troublebe | |
| Got more coupers than isuzu, kid i bruise you | |
| Abuse you, my sewer style will confuse you | |
| I got the touch so s spark the dutch | |
| I' m guaranteed to rip and bend your microphone, now touch and plus | |
| We kick that ass 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, chalk it up | |
| Cos if 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 s bust this, a do justice like day | |
| We' re walkin down the street, we' re watchin like slay | |
| s rave and rant but can' t get it, dig it | |
| t is on lock and mother s can' t pick it | |
| I' m runnin with fools with more jewels than freddy blassy | |
| My rap drivin s 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 with bread and butter, cousin | |
| ahah, laugh then stash the tracy | |
| The limit' s the sky, i' m stayin high like aces | |
| But r, my styles is fat like al roker | |
| Chiggity choke a to sleep, i don' t know ya | |
| Biggity blow your mind, the beef and the swine | |
| i' m | |
| Hook | |
| Son, ha, diggy das, diggy das, diggy das | |
| Solid scheme, word bond son t come thick | |
| Y' nah how we do! |
| zuò cí : Charity, Hines, Lynch, Weston | |
| Intro: | |
| Aight, 12 yeah yeah yeah yeah son | |
| On the mic one time no diggedy | |
| For your mother mind | |
| ready to rock rough rhymes redman 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 be on your , let em know son | |
| Verse 1: pmd, cdogg | |
| Cos i does a little dance, make a little love | |
| I get the down tonight | |
| Yo i' m lethal like injections, teachin s lessons | |
| I fry that ass up like i' m wessun | |
| So come equipped and i don' t slip why? | |
| Cos if you slip i sink that ass just like a p | |
| I got the mic in my grip, the heat is on my hip | |
| Just in case s wanna flip | |
| I see my s in sight, everything aight | |
| Comin out of crown heights | |
| Ain' t no chips on my shoulder, strictly boulders | |
| My t be on point like a soldier | |
| It' s the evil that men do, who we do? | |
| I do you and your whole clique | |
| Click, the gun is on , s need to stop | |
| I wet that ass up like a mop | |
| Well lord, yeah just to follow my man on the verse | |
| It' s the cdogg 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' ma 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 noholdbarred, t 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 mother sinner | |
| Hook x8: | |
| ready to rock rough rhymes | |
| Verse 2: cdogg, pmd | |
| Ready to rock rough rhymes | |
| It' s the cdogg back with 12 new rides | |
| Wit the ill allout tight t for your head | |
| It' s the man that' ll make ' 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 skill | |
| It' s the scheme, yeah s got to chill | |
| Peace to my dl wit the beat | |
| And peace to all my s on union street | |
| And to ya fake ass s keep on walkin | |
| A dl year, the whole e is talkin | |
| Oh yeah, bringin up the rear and we don' t front never that | |
| 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 t stinks like mother 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 | |
| Hook | |
| Verse 3: dray, books | |
| Well lemme come and get a little bit, son i' m feelin it, it' s the bubbly | |
| s know the deal i got the steel in case the troublebe | |
| Got more coupers than isuzu, kid i bruise you | |
| Abuse you, my sewer style will confuse you | |
| I got the touch so s spark the dutch | |
| I' m guaranteed to rip and bend your microphone, now touch and plus | |
| We kick that ass 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, chalk it up | |
| Cos if 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 s bust this, a do justice like day | |
| We' re walkin down the street, we' re watchin like slay | |
| s rave and rant but can' t get it, dig it | |
| t is on lock and mother s can' t pick it | |
| I' m runnin with fools with more jewels than freddy blassy | |
| My rap drivin s 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 with bread and butter, cousin | |
| ahah, laugh then stash the tracy | |
| The limit' s the sky, i' m stayin high like aces | |
| But r, my styles is fat like al roker | |
| Chiggity choke a to sleep, i don' t know ya | |
| Biggity blow your mind, the beef and the swine | |
| i' m | |
| Hook | |
| Son, ha, diggy das, diggy das, diggy das | |
| Solid scheme, word bond son t come thick | |
| Y' nah how we do! |