nick wiz - we got the raw lyrics
nick wiz ft. ran reed ft. almighty star and double r + “we got the raw”
[emcee(s): almighty star, double r, and ran reed]
[producer(s): nick wiz]
[hook: ran reed] (x2)
now tell us what you want, my man. we got the raw
the sh+t that get you nice no doubt, this is the pure
that uncut dope that makes you hit the floor
them n+ggas down the way got garbage for sure
[verse 1: almighty star]
i’m the top prospect with sl!ck ghetto linguistics
chicks hear the voice and see the face, be like, “who is it?”
it’s nick bars, the don, the pérignon spitting sl!ck sh+t
avirex, black back holster for my biscuit
take two sips, wet your top lip, get you lifted
i’ll slip mix, then i’ll hit your pockets with the quickness
swiftness and agility on top of the c+cking+my+hammer+
+back+ability, these f+gs ain’t spilling me
caps full of funnies? that’s the only way they’re k!lling me
can’t help it that their right+hand man is feeling me
wanting me to get on the same track they spit on, but i’m
f+cking with them lost world n+ggas ‘til i’m gone
confidants of ran reed steaming+hot like heat, blaze at
pigs and beef ‘cause we don’t f+ck with red meat
[hook: ran reed] (x2)
now tell us what you want, my man. we got the raw
the sh+t that get you nice no doubt, this is the pure
that uncut dope that makes you hit the floor
them n+ggas down the way got garbage for sure
[verse 2: double r]
i feel you, damaging, mentally rumble, three+man
huddle hit n+ggas with lyrics that make ‘em fumble. went from
bags to bundles, shorty lives that lip+mumble. all i hear
is ran reed and confidants at the tunnel
international player, glock+slayer, [?] inside
the himalaya. f+ck [?]—double r for mayor
ready to blaze ya, drug major, but still trying to figure out
when i’m on grounds, how my numbers come through my sky pager
lyrical major, i’ll blame the products for my bad behavior
spit the flavor, d.r. give ‘em what they never gave ya
roll with force, still unsigned, but my tapes cross
cover source, triple nines, i’m undercover, floss
i’ll bruise you, beat that ass like nick wiz, then lose you
abuse you. c+cking glocks? locking blocks? i’m used to
[hook: ran reed] (x2)
now tell us what you want, my man. we got the raw
the sh+t that get you nice no doubt, this is the pure
that uncut dope that makes you hit the floor
them n+ggas down the way got garbage for sure
[verse 3: ran reed]
yo, me and
my tag team’ll turn the illest n+gga to a drag queen
make him throw the dress on, so bring your best on. i hope
you got your vest on—if not, you might forever rest on
‘cause on the mic, i’m known to put the f+cking stress on
bring it to you in the worst way. ain’t a d+mn thing changed
i’ve been like this since the first day back in ‘86
catching records for wreck [?]
n+ggas show me love ‘cause they know i used to kick ass
and still do. chop your head off, mentally k!ll you
the pain i inflict feels like i stuck a drill through
send chills through like a touch from the holy ghost
n+ggas know we roast like a pig on a stick. you big
on the d+ck ‘cause you know we bang like a hammer
from fifth ave to alabama, we drop grammar
asiatic star with my man rog’ and ran reed equals
hot sh+t—that’s just what we got, so what you need?
[hook: ran reed] (x2)
now tell us what you want, my man. we got the raw
the sh+t that get you nice no doubt, this is the pure
that uncut dope that makes you hit the floor
them n+ggas down the way got garbage for sure
[outro: ran reed]
now tell us what you want
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