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Artist: Eightball f/ Canibus, DMX, McGruff
Album:  Pure Uncut Remix 12"
Song:   Pure Uncut Remix
Typed by:

DMX, McGruff and Canibus
You know where you heard it first
My man Cardan, G Black, Ralph, Universal Records
Uh... {*all echoes*}
Pure Uncut, Eightball {*DMX barks in background*}
DMX (WHAT?!) DMX, McGruff, McGruff, and Canibus, baby
Yeah, its the Pure Uncut, raw, we keep it raw
It's the Pure Uncut, raw we keep it raw - listen...

Niggas I fuck wit' is the illest, baby gorillas
And shit we do today is gon' catch up with us and kill us
Long as I feel this, motherfucker's head is shot
Fucking lead is hot, and leave them dead to rot
Ruff Ryders cut the shit up, like raw keys
Like that from Crystal Lake and my last name is Voorhies
It can happen niggas, dog keys, and still gun it down
Only cause I know how you look up to a nigga, from the ground
Running clown, you know better, than to breathe too hard
For my kids I thank you God
And if you don't know, ask a nigga, that they just put in the ground
Slugs make way by the ounce, so I must've put in a pound
At least!  I gave it to another nigga for lookin
Money, ?could never stop my slugs? from cookin
Remember me, cause I'ma be there when they bury, you
Leave your skeleton in the cemetery

Dum, du-du, dum
Who got the, who got the bum bu-bu bum?
We wrap it up and smoke it, sixty green
I'm a fiend for this rap thing
Down South hustiln' and we all about the cream
Stick em up, mad face, car chase through the city
Fuck the police, I'm mad plus I'm going off that gritty
Frank Nitti got a mob down to murder with me
Cats want to stick me, believe it or not like Ripley
I rip thee, back into a stack and flip it like a tech
Pure uncut, fire it up, and watch the fiends come back
Bubblin', real dogs stay around for troublin
Eightball, pick up the ball, when them tricks start bumblin
Rumblin (*vrooom*) mushroom, cloud pimpin'
Victims who breathe in die when I be speakin, releasin
You heard me, are you worthy
To ride with the Suave House and get down and dirty?

Chorus [Eightball]

Its the Pure Uncut, raw, we keep it raw*2X*
Baby Pure Uncut, raw, we keep it raw
Its the Pure Uncut, raw, we keep it raw
(What?) Nigga, Pure Uncut, raw, we keep it raw

Yo; where the fuck is the dough? its time to bubble and blow
Hit these bitches from the back, have 'em clutchin' they toes
Once smoked my lungs out, but now I fuck with my nose
Perform shows, bad bitches crunchin my clothes
Yo I'm 'Gruff, street thug beyond the speakers, beyond the rap
Man I'm on a car and my gat, swarm attack, sip Don and Cognac
Ain't just me, my whole freakin army strapped
Aiyyo, fuck that! And fuck you! Who the fuck you?
Touch you, you act like you want trouble
Money don't know you, don't rub you
I got' eat, that's like trying to tell me don't hustle
I gotta blow a couple, niggas away just to show the muscle
Yo, I squeeze till your vocal tussle
Niggas please, I got keys, coke, and snow to bubble
Hoes to cuff you, fuck you, suck the shit out your dick
Sucker for love, think you can fuck with McGruff?
Now listen mister
Gruff put your soul in a twister

Just got off the payphone, on a three-way line
with Eightball and Tony Draper askin me for a favor
Now let me take it from the top I touch your knot with the rubber glock
Then I take your title, nigga, fuck your spot
Peace to the players who crush a lot
but they call me Canibus because I busta lot
You can suck my cock
and got the same transmitted disease your mother got
Being a favorite with me right before she was forced to pop
She came home at four o'clock, was shot, she was riding me on top
I told the bitch to keep the door locked, I know your heating up hot
Because I touched the sure spot, you got defeated and dropped
I punch you in the jaw-ops
You talk dirt, you get dirt thats how I stand on niggas networks
You think that best works? You think you can't get hurt?
The bitch in you, makes you run for cover when I spit at you
A man-to-man zone Allen Iverson couldn't dribble through
Rapid fire syllables, you gotta bribe me with a mill' or two
To keep me from killing you with the lyrical
All you chief executives ampin answer records and shit
See, what goes around comes around, bitch