Az - Uncut Raw lyrics

No need for Lato's, pure straight out Bolivia Peru, uncut baby, what? Life is a struggle, that's why n***as I know stay on the juggle Some hustle to double, others hug you to mug you Poverty-stricken, they even turn a church kid into stickin It seems sickenin, but what? Whatever makes the pockets thickin f** police and no remorse for the beasts that's lost on the streets, that pistol whip a priest for a crosspiece Some lost sheep, runnin thru strips, thinkin of top dealers Fillin Tek clips, wit 'cop k**ers' that could stop gorillas Shovin a stubnose in bu*tholes, I'm nutso skitzo, clepto, k**in sh** up throughout the metro My thug essence will always keep me plugged with drug investments Sketch my reference, takin papers considered preference And violations will lead to kidnappin, decapitation So what you're facin, is realism that's in activation Livin off land with five honeys playin my hand Me and fam, sippin off Guinness stout and eatin clams It's all part of plans, a vet chillin in Tamps, West and Stans Outta state connect, slugs, s**, d** and grands Hook: What? For my Height n***as (Uncut) Trife n***as (Raw), 25-to-life n***as This is as, pure as opium, purified for street players to open em space, like three els laced with coke in em Shots awoken em, fake uniform takes the portion of six trips, to young clips and k**ers coachin em However though, fake a** n***as'll never know Cos my method's perfected, I'm movin sceptic and never show I'm soon to blow, stack doe, lay on the low While I'm sippin Cristal, I mess with Long Island and Moe A part of nature, me wan' acres in Jamaica Puffin exotic trees without seeds rolled up in leaf paper So exhale, cos if I don't live to tell then f** it, if well, I'll see the rest of y'all n***as in hell Hook So all my good fellas, h**n, coke and weed sellers What the f** cats can tell us if they ain't got bread to bail us? Happy to survive, I haven't seen it all, Peter pay Paul From the connivers to the livest, they crack fool It's all war, the streets are filled up with guns galore Plenty young for war, gettin their minds flunked and sore Yo dun, co*k the 4..... Motherf**ers think we're playin, back em down Holdin n***as for high stitches, what? What?