2 Tears In A Bucket Lyrics - Singles - Redman

Uhh, hahah, Ruff Ryders niggas (all my niggas) 

(All aboard!) Blood in blood out 

Funk Doc, Sheek Luc', Meth-Tical (whattup niggas?) 

Yo, yo, aiyyo yo 

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 

Fuck 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) 

Bitch 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'mma spell my name out on the side of your car 

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Come and Ruff Ryde with us 

If you wanna get high with us 

If you wanna get down with us 

Come on nooooowwwww 

Come and Ruff Ryde with us 

If you wanna get high with us 

If you wanna get down with us 

Come on nooooowwwww 

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 nigga, Redman nigga 

Got - "fuck ya momma" on my sweat band nigga 

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 ass to whoop on 

Photos 

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 

Nigga 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