(here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the... (shotgun, slammin in your chest piece - plow!) --> method man I break pens, make ends Fake friends smile up While I rip a style up But I know the real ones Who steal guns And jooks to crooks, c-k-l-y-n See, they be dyin Daily, rarely do they make it to the news New suit, no shoes, no clues I mind my business, you better mind yours I'm steppin to jaws So get the gores for the cause Laws ain't made for a nigga, pid tax-free So they wanna find out where the cracks be So they run up, gun up, wanna touch us They must be lookin for the rukus (here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the rukus, the muthafuckin rukus) (here come the...) (shotgun, slammin in your chest piece - plow!) --> method man