Lyrics:
two razors
Bet cha'all didn't know I had a fake arm
I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin' it on
Took a fat nigga out in like 40secs
My
They want that
Raw uncut beef patty
Get caught by the
Lime green and khaki
I only lean when
I only lean when turning
Through the city
My fingers are
on my porch gettin' high I'm like Smokey
Chipped up celly
Cussin' out Sony (Where the fuck is my cheque?)
Yo! I don't just live by reputation
I'm
avioanele
Ne facem planele
Aruncam telefoanele
ținem armele
Ale noastre sunt zonele k29 reverse it n’ burst it
Lie to us once , get slapped by the fuckin
Hahahahahahaahhahahahah
It's Clay Raw on the track man
It's Clay Raw and my flow is ridiculous
In the club with the Glick inconspicuous
When it comes
on to the next before a week goes by
I give credit only where I see that credit is due
That last album took a week to put together for you
I'm on top of my wave
It's Clay Raw on the track man
Oh shit what is that sound got feins at the door and they knocking it down (They knocking they knocking)
Word
Cause you burn and then it hurts (It hurts, it hurts)
Sauce
(Tino)
Your eyes got me hypnotize
Where do you go, when you're hurt by lies
Shortie
a grinder
Oh this your bitch I'm behind her
I'll get you knocked off by a minor
Hoe I'm Clay Raw that's my one-liner
I wake up I check Navy Federal (Check it)
in this raw, I wanna fly
Put the za za in the sky, shit ain't right on this side, yeah
All my niggas dying and our president be lying
I got za up in
and a lot of action...
Take a trip down King Pin alley
Do it by the quart
Your momma and your sister
Are in the Marine Corps
Give me raw, raw, raw Titan
it raw and hardcore
Five six, you're beating us with nightsticks
Seven eight, I'm forced to pack a thirty-eight
Nine ten, you put me in a pen; if
espero a que llegue putada nueva
Y yo te di la mano y tu agarraste mi manga
Tu mira bien su tanga como anda
Que ella en la puta vida se fijará en ti
Manda
knuckles, crazy hard rugged and rough
Raw rebel on raw charts, and poetry punks
They be like.. Who was that with them custom made rhymes?
West Side styles
Yes the shit is raw, coming at your door
Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more
Yes the hour's four, I told you before
Prepare for mic
Woo
The raw truth, I got too much juice
I'm so blessed busting at the seems loose
Get your shades up, girl my shines on
Ain't none of them haters in
work it
I put my thing down, flip it and reverse it
Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup
Ti esrever dna ti pilf, nwod gniht ym tup (ooh)
If you
nigga
Celebrity crush in my villa
Take off her skirt and I give it to her
Raw, raw, raw
She want it raw, raw, raw
She said don't stop, stop, stop
these dude
Yeah we could jump 'em and check em, by sprayin' techs at these fools
Make it to trial, you don't win, indirectly you lose
You bad, makin' that
repeating that?
Nigga, I'm rap tycoon, make a 100 mill by June
Now who the fuck said I can't rap, Jack?
I'm in a dolphins dream, I got it for 'em raw
proud of me
Hit the driveway in the park it's not a lot to me
Bumping Flatbush trying to get my third odyssey
Cuban cigars, selling it raw
Feeling like
raw
Raw she ain't no good
She done fucked almost all the dawgs
Caught in the club
I done pulled a crystal on her
Got choppas on choppas on choppas
ti
Ti ti ti ti
Ti ti ti
Ti ti ti ti
Ti ti ti
Ti ti ti ti
Ti ti ti
Ti ti ti ti
Panicking I'm nervous
Reeled feelings to the surface
Surrounded by these
gone
Keep they weapon by the scrotum when its time to draw
F**** nine eleven homie we never call
Wrestling with the pistols we not talking bout raw
Born
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