Uncut Raw Lyrics - Az The Visualiza

No need for Lato's, pure straight out Bolivia 

Peru, uncut baby, what? 

Life is a struggle, that's why niggas 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 

Fuck 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 killers' that could stop gorillas 

Shovin a stubnose in buttholes, I'm nutso 

skitzo, clepto, killin shit 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, sex, drugs and grands 

Hook: 

What? For my Height niggas (Uncut) 

Trife niggas (Raw), 25-to-life niggas 

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 killers coachin em 

However though, fake ass niggas'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 fuck it, if well, I'll see the rest of y'all niggas in hell 

Hook 

So all my good fellas, heroin, coke and weed sellers 

What the fuck 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, cock the 4..... 

Motherfuckers think we're playin, back em down 

Holdin niggas for high stitches, what? What?