2 Tears In A Bucket-Ruff Ryders

　　　 Artist：ruff ryders Songs Title：2 tears in a bucket Uhh, hahah, Ruff Ryders niggaz (all my niggaz) (All aboard!) Blood in blood out Funk Doc, Sheek Luc', Meth-Tical (whattup niggaz?) Yo, yo, aiyyo yo [Sheek] Soon as I cop the nine, I pop the nine When I take it out the box, I represent LOX Now when I flow, you hit the rewind button So I charge out more, want it all at the door F**k heat, Sheek walk around with an oven Who you gonna kill with that little Foreman grill? How its gon' look when I come through your block? Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top Porsche, 300 horse fly by Back open pumpin ＂How High?＂ (How High) Yeah, can y'all see that (See that) B**ch you can call me what you want, 'cuz ＂I'll Be Dat＂ (Be dat) Get off my dick, I don't care about no jewels Long as the condo's paid and the truck I choose I'm tellin y'all niggas, if its not double R I'ma spell my name out on the side of your car Come and Ruff Ryde with us If you wanna get high with us If you wanna get down with us Come and Ruff Ryde with us If you wanna get high with us If you wanna get down with us [Redman] I got a twin cam exhaust connected to the jaw A five speed clutch on my paw when I write I glow like the pegs in Lite-Brite 3000 volts of lightning when you fly the right kite Me and Meth be Hennessy, two ice cubes We can draw (choose your weapons) or do I choose? When I choose the grip, one shot lose your hip I hope your shoes fit for this move and pick I avalanche your camp with, ten feet of snow I'm cold blooded, my fam half-eskimo My flows move like indo; Turn ten nickels to ten loads, outta ten sto's Ride the crash course, do the math on it Swizz Beats you can ride Amtrak on it But I'm on it, grillin with George Foreman Ya peeps is at the Grammy Awards cornin The ice, the fat wallet son, I want it And the helicopter warmin before mornin Def Jam ni**a, Redman ni**a Got - ＂f**k ya momma＂ on my sweat band ni**a You tough guys'll get smacked in the club COme with the gun I bought from Mack in the club Its P-P-P from Bricks to Brook-nam (C'mon) (C'mon) Bring me some more a** to whoop on [Method Man] Look what the cat dragged in Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror Scoop of high yellow Cinderella, Meth forever Never rush a rhyme, hook could never bust my nine But if I have to, I have to, it's all in the mind I stay ahead of time while y'all fallin behind Tryin to relight ya lime It's a crime when I drop bomb lines designed To tick, tick, boom blow your mind Yeah me, M-E-T, H, the O, the D Can't be done, like tryin to find a penny in the sea Ni**a run, for cover son go and get them guns Y'all ain't from here, don't try to come around here gettin ones Swizz Beat the track in the head, but I instead Pull my dart gun and bust sixteen until it's dead I'm the game, all of my dogs be off the chain Yellin Wu.. Tang, Wu.. Tang