Artist: Ruthless Bastardz
Album:  Too Raw for Radio
Song:   Save Our Souls
Typed by: Davida.b.

[Intro: Apocalipps]
Ayo, you know what I learned in life?
You can do alot of soul searching, but you can never change a grimey nigga,
Ruthless Bastardz, Truck

[Truck]
Soon as your boat docked in, you'll get you shit rocked in (how?)
I pop you, pass niggas off like soccer
Do not enter, my niggas standing at the gate
This ain't Shaolin no more nigga, this is Planet of The Apes
You won't catch me on your beat if the shit ain't hard
The Bastardz is back and we still at large
I don't care about your cd and them niggas up on it
You can't call your shits mixtapes if Truck ain't on it
If Bless ain't on it, Iron Mic and Lipps ain't on it
This is 418, my whole click up on it
Yo we're way overdue, this shit took too long
Would ya stomp a nigga out if he looked too long?
Niggas is starving, thats why they run up in your crib
Put the gun to your wife and your kid
Flex ??? the watch on your wrist
Motherfuckers leave you lay in a ditch
Don't display, your lil bro ain't shit

[Chorus: Apocalipps]
Ayo we hustle till the sun come up
Hearts is cold, save our souls
And we gon hold it down, and stay strong while these other niggas fold
But for now, save our souls
Cuz we grimey, starving individuals thats outta control
But for now, save our souls

[Iron Mic]
Let me speak, I'm alerting the masses
We are the Ruthless Bastardz, number one guns in this rap shit
Probably sayin 'who the fuck is he?', no, who the fuck are you?
Fucker, you ain't Superman, nigga you ain't untouchable
I'm straight out of Staten Island, New York
It's real out here, I don't know what the fuck you thought
Whatchu smokin man, I don't know what the fuck you bought
You either get robbed or clipped on, bangin them shits off
On the block, calling cracks, getting shit off
Blowing hammers at jakes when we get pissed off
Food salad ass niggas get they shit tossed
Staten Island's the dome, nigga, you get lost
Get on that boat, you might not make it back of course
I'm Iron Mic, nigga you bust your gun? Of course
You cross my family and get hit with the sawed off
I did it all, thats why them niggas said they saw it all
Catch your body and then get off on the R&R
It's murder rap motherfucker, call the coroner
There's money on my head? You better call it off
Nigga the drama ain't dead, we killing all of ya'll

[Chorus 1/2]

[Apocalipps]
Ayo you got two options, either the life or the coffin
Draw a line, peel the first motherfucker that cross it
I'm different, seperate myself from the rest
The bonecrusher will seperate the ribs from your chest
And, uh, fuck the little record label you started
I got on some fowl shit and body your main artist
Stab your producer and give him the whole cartridge
A closed casket, but it's dearly departed
And I don't think you can save my soul, I'm too hard
I got kicked out of heaven, I tried to murder the Gods
You actin like we ain't go half on a lucy (what's that?)
Like I didn't go back to ??? and bring you his Kufi
Celebrate your death, nigga while Hennesseys spilling
Do a disappearing act with your body like Terry McMillan
My niggas crazy, they got too much heat
I hate firecracker man, cause I got too much beef
Apocalipps is trying to double times ten (word)
The sales come I want PC like I'm asking to sign in

[Chorus]

[Outro: Apocalipps]
Save Our Souls, word up, Gooch beats nigga
Pop Ya Head Off Records, Ruthless Bastardz, still at large motherfuckers