(Intro: Mike Marshall with adlibs by Keak Da Sneak)

Oooooooh!

(In the name of Rame)

In the name of Raymond, (yeah)

He was a smooth talker

Street balla (In the name of Rame)

Oooh ghetto soldier

I can't get over, losin', Rame, Rame, Rame

(Verse 1: Keak Da Sneak)

Uh, the Town is shiftin' like a deer

And niggas who got fear of blast, if we near

I've seen big time ballas get took out the game

Of playa hater-izm, victim, but not my nigga Rame

Sharper than a Gillette

Specially fresh in a Vette

Always known to swang

They hate to see a young nigga havin' thangs

But couldn't stop, get it off faster than he could chop it

Told me one day, if we wasn't signed, then he would drop it

I peeped the realest, and was juiced

Had love, so I only bought bomb from ten-deuce

15 for a dub, in da doe

Cleanest box in the Town, bumpin' the "Next Nigga Ho"

A hater tried to kill my folks, now what they do that fo'?

It's all wrong

See all the love 'n hollerin' kept my playa potna strong

He loved that Krazy click

So I dedicate this song in the name of Rame

A true, blue, soldier in this skrilla-makin' D-game

Still ain't never been leaked

A potna infiltrated anotha potna that's major deep

Was on the creep

Pass me the blunt so I can hit it, 'cuz whoever did it

They gotta live or die wit it

In the name of Rame

(Chorus - Agerman with background vocals by Mike Marshall)

I remember back when I was dealin' crack

(in the name of Rame)

Even the roaches and the rats through the ceiling cracks

Knocks whistlin' his name through abandoned shacks

(in the name of Rame, yeah)

But I would be a fool to let it hold me back

In the name of Rame

I remember back when I was dealin' crack

(in the name of Rame)

Even the roaches and the rats through the ceiling cracks

Knocks whistlin' his name through abandoned shacks

(in the name of Rame, yeah)

But I would be a fool to let it hold me back

(Ooh, Rame, Rame, Rame)

(Verse 2: Bart)

It's too much sorrow in my city and it hurts

One love to Rame, movin' them thangs in the game like EA Sports

Takin' no losses or no shorts

But why chu came first? Struck by the ghetto curse

Another victim of quenchin' a playa hater's thirst

But at first, it was all lav

Breakin' up them stacks of cash

Livin' life slowly, tryin' to get rich fast was all I have

It's game-related, I seen it comin'

Watched niggas start hatin' him daily when he flipped that box in a Vette, bumpin'

Nobody seen it but it's all hood

I figure them bitches who did it consider it all good

But y'all would, wanna live life shade

Get strapped in the game and take my potna fo' his last days

Think you've got it made?

Nigga ain't no runnin' back

When I put this gun in yo' back

Detach 'em, attack 'em

To the point no picture can match 'em

Put the pistol holder up in the shoulder crystal clear

Slit him ear to ear

Down to the very compound and off this hemisphere

So fear me there

I hit 'em up hard where it hurts

Then put yo' dick in the dirt

The Flow-from-the-Matic-Nina work

But the bomb in the blunt can't keep me perked

I need a fifth of gin

Now bust a blunt again

My friend, every corner I bend

I'm thinkin' 'bout Rame to the very end

So now it's all in his name

A true, blue, soldier, in this skrilla-makin' D-game

(Chorus - Agerman with background vocals by Mike Marshall)

I remember back when I was dealin' crack

(in the name of Rame)

Even the roaches and the rats through the ceiling cracks

Knocks whistlin' his name through abandoned shacks

(in the name of Rame, yeah)

But I would be a fool to let it hold me back

(Ohh, Rame, yeah)

I remember back when I was dealin' crack

Even the roaches and the rats through the ceiling cracks

Knocks whistlin' his name through abandoned shacks

(It's a shame)

But I would be a fool to let it hold me back

(Ooh, Rame, Rame, Rame)

(Verse 3: Agerman)

I know he's tired of the pain, but he gotta keep hustlin'

Wit two daughters of his own and can't be left out strugglin'

Gotta raise a family, so he's pullin' 24's

Dope houses full of hoes, Hennessy, dank, money and clothes

Task kickin' in doors, through the backdo' they gon' be chasin'

Crooked cops tryin' to set him up for beatin' all them cases

And if he go to jail, next day he post bail

Then go back to the spot, to set back up shop to make that mail

Day by day livin', and nobody don't want no static

AP-9 in the attic, flashlight directin' traffic

Pullin' a G daily, watchin' out for these snitches

Suckas hatin' and wishin', holes in the clothes from hittin' fences

The real deal, peepin' how others doin' it just to chill

But he be on the block hustlin' tryin' to pay them bills

Flipped him a Vette and he was ridin' wit the "skirt-skirt"

Hittin' corners showin' them hatas what the turf is worth

Showin' love to his folks, he's tryin' to make a dolla

"Here's the blunt, let's get smoke" that's what I heard him holla

Even though me and Raymond didn't have the same mother

I always looked up to him as being my brother

In the name of him