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! |