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cru - nuthin' but lyrics

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aiyo i’m just lottin’ thru cuz i finished with that booty call
green acres more, lot and queens had it all
got the beat from my man big stan 50 grand
rhythem blunt cru, black rob in demand

mic check one, and the mic check two
rhythem blunt cru runs thru you like the flu
f-ck ya whole shop up and inside
leave ya jaw to the floor, eyes open wide

loungin’ in my crib upon, now in 12 floor
lo-lo wit the ham come knockin’ at my door
she sell glock sh-lls by the sea sh-r-
payin’ for the guests on that big -ss boat

yo kids, i’m takin’ no shorts, back and forth like a meter
play it crazy, ballin’ see ya, park dark black adidas
art shines, ‘cuz i’m double, spanish honies say roberto
f-ck that, i buck that b-tch n-gg- from your borough

well lyrical gats, at the smalls of my back
in facts, i pack extras up in my nap sacks
greenbacks, let me layin’ back and relax
gainin’ riches, b-tches just by kickin’ the mere fact

n-gg- i can make ya speaker shake
make ya break, now ya upstate gettin’ raped
while i’m home makin’ hits
that smokin’ so much weed that i start hearin’ sh-t

aiyo, f-ck is that sh-t yo
(what)
you hear that sh-t
(what?)
don’t f-ck with me, ya n-gg-s hear that sh-t
ya n-gg-s f-ck with
(yo chill, man take it)

rhythem blunt cru, knockin’ at the door
nothin’ but the rough, rugged and hardcore
rhythem blunt cru, knockin’ at the door
nothin’ but the rough, rugged and hardcore

rhythem blunt cru, knockin’ at the door
nothin’ but the rough, rugged and hardcore
rhythem blunt cru, knockin’ at the door
nothin’ but the rough, rugged and hardcore

jack call yopes, so i stay to bring the metal
to my job on 34th, i got some beef with these devils
automatic weapons, f-ck askin’ n-gg-s questions
leave them torn, as the justice cypher born then we steppin’

all rise, parental discretion is advised
and be wise, ‘cuz one who fronts is one who dies
smoke buddah by the mic, just like a barracuda
flush the cru to the ground like roto rooter

a fight, a fight, a n-gg- and a white
if a n-gg- don’t win, we all jump in
wanna be me, but you can’t see me
‘cuz i don’t rap like michael jackson those little wee-wees

uck it, bottom line, top of the page
loves to f-ck a big body b-tch like rage
runnin’ thru uptown like i don’t got no sense
and frederick k. price couldn’t find no evidence

yo i make the grade, now i’m crazy paid
n-gg-s watch me close like muslims in the
world trade center, represent the click in the city
blowin’ up the spot, like silicone t-tties

try to defeat beat, n-gg- ya dead wrong
too head strong and got a 38 leg long
so f-ck around, lay around on the wet ground
by the tray pound and these sick n-gg-s from uptown

let me clear my throat now

- cru lyrics

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