(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the...
(shotgun, slammin in your chest piece - plow!) --> method man
I break pens, make ends
Fake friends smile up
While I rip a style up
But I know the real ones
Who steal guns
And jooks to crooks, c-k-l-y-n
See, they be dyin
Daily, rarely do they make it to the news
New suit, no shoes, no clues
I mind my business, you better mind yours
I'm steppin to jaws
So get the gores for the cause
Laws ain't made for a nigga, pid tax-free
So they wanna find out where the cracks be
So they run up, gun up, wanna touch us
They must be lookin for the rukus
(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus)
(here come the...)
(shotgun, slammin in your chest piece - plow!) --> method man
