The W feat. GZA,U-God,Method Man,Raekwon

歌詞

(GZA (RZA)) I grew up around block parties ready to rock Behind the rope nigga with my rhymes on cock The verse shot first nigga who had shit to pop A bad weather blow the feathers off a hundred flocks With 70% goose, 30 ducked, get stuck And each link in your chain is trucked No ends in this rhyme cipher with nine snipers Charge of the kiss from the Pied Piper I live around DJ's, b-boys, MC's Through rap never thinkin' +Airways+ are TVs It was strictly all about magnificant rhyme clout +Rec Room+, 2 dollars with the flyer as we would doubt Now his wigs pushed back Name scratched off the plaque, too wild to re-enact (Yo) (Chorus x2: U-God) Got to check out +The W+, got to check out-- +The W+ Got to check out +The W+, got to check out-- +The W+ (Method Man) MC's have the right to remain silent Everything you say can and will be used against y'all muh'fuckers And Mef can only trust ya as far as I can see ya Me need ya? That'll be the.. day, ya busta It gets no rougher when, me and my comrades rush ya Like red heat with hammers and sickles I milk like ya baby mama's nipples, got issues It's just us, so what's what if any can touch us Then lord strike me down where I stand at now wit this bottle of Remy, gettin' fucked up child, listen The most notable MC, ya source for hip hop quotable MC Of course it's Tical! (Chorus) (U-God) The Princess, the Pope, incest, dope Choke you by the throat, the chrome handle smoke The man not for joke, we all out for broke Plus the herbal that I tote, the murder that I wrote You can't do me none, my Uzi weighs a ton I'm comin' from the slum, Wu is number one I stumbled on the drum, the Gods are troublesome +Rumble+ when we come, boy you better +Run+, +Run+ (Chorus) (Raekwon) Aiyo, it's like this jumpin' out of golden whips Flashin' mega bricks, outfits, rock ridiculous whips, bitch Wavy hair, men of the year, bent in the stairs Sick winter gear, been on position is where Call him an Asiatic God-body, +Longevity+ Slang rap, you get your whip wrapped Swing through the hood calmly Yo what up? Staten Island, Bush, George Dust shut shit off, whips spin off Get off, slips, which, wiz Mind di-tects mines, lines lick sick nines Pick wines, lift up, bill a nigga six flies Dip wide, dress my shit up, fuck six times, wish mine Rub lamps, take thousand dollar crystalines (Chorus)