Don't Be a Menace... movie - Winter Warz lyrics

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Song by Ghostface Killah, Masta Killa, U-God, Raekwon, Cappadonna<br /><br>

It's on..<br>

[Cappa] Where your sparkle at kid?<br>

Ryzarector..<br>

<br>

[Break: Raekwon the Chef]<br>

Yes the shit is raw, comin at your door<br>

Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more<br>

Yes the hour's four, I told you before<br>

Prepare for mic fights (and plus the cold war)<br>

<br>

[Verse One: U-God]<br>

This rhyme you digest through the RZA console<br>

Ask why I slam nine diagram pole<br>

Raekwon dropped the bomb, Hunchback, Norte Dame<br>

Golden Arms is bronze, buddah palm hit Qu'ran<br>

It blows extreme, mean stream be the theme<br>

Supreme team, America's Cream Team, redeemed<br>

Vidal Sassoon, chrome tones hear the moans of Al Capone<br>

Gun POW to the dome<br>

And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge<br>

By the alledged, full-fledged, sledge RZA edge<br>

One dose of my feroc(ious) handheld trigga cuts<br>

Acapella spittin shell paralyzed when you get touched<br>

And critical mic cords, hangin like umbilical<br>

Cords, dope swords, five star general<br>

Raw be the quote rap style sore throat<br>

Through the fully operational, hand held tote mm-hmm<br>

<br>

[Break: (first two lines)]<br>

<br>

[Verse Two: Ghostface Killah]<br>

More than a thousand times one, snatch up my styles get done<br>

I hold a title, enhanced how my belt was won, check it<br>

Slick majestic, broke mics are left infected<br>

Germs start to spread through your crew, drew like an epic<br>

You asked for it, shot up the jams like syringes<br>

My technique alone blows doors straight off the hinges<br>

Masked Avenger, I appear to blow your ear like wind<br>

With a freestyle, sharper than the Indian spear<br>

So sit back and let the king explore<br>

Describe me, the kid's nice and he holds swords<br>

And his name, black attack's the nerve like migraines<br>

With more games than beggars on trains, livid sharp pains<br>

Poisonous Rebel like Deck, you can't destroy this<br>

You get ambushed, skate, try to avoid this<br>

Side effects of, hot raps and hot tracks<br>

A duffle bag full of guns son, dipped in black<br>

My culture, glides and attacks just like a vulture<br>

Ghostface in Madison Square is on your poster<br>

<br>

[Break]<br>

<br>

[Verse Three: Masta Killa]<br>

Be on the lookout for this mass murderous suspect<br>

That fills more body bags than apartments in projects<br>

And as far as the coroners know<br>

The autopsy show, it was a Shaolin blow<br>

Put on by my family brought to the academy<br>

of the Wu and learned how to<br>

fuck up yo' anatomy, steadily, calm and deadly<br>

Spatter-head lyrics I lick through your transmit<br>

MC's submit to the will as I kill your<br>

juvenile freestyle, civilize the men-tal<br>

Devils worship this like an icon<br>

Bear-huggin mics with the grips of a python<br>

<br>

[Break]<br>

<br>

[Verse Four: Cappadonna]<br>

You heard of the rasp before but kept waitin<br>

for the sun of song, I keep dancehalls strong<br>

Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong<br>

Extravangza, time sits still<br>

No propoganda, be wary of the skill<br>

As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum<br>

Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome<br>

Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat<br>

CD massacre, murder to cassette<br>

I blow the shop up, you ain't seen nuttin yet<br>

One man ran, tryin to get away from it<br>

Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh<br>

into your chamber like Freddy enter dream<br>

Discombumberate your technique and your scheme<br>

Four course applause, like a black dat to dat<br>

You're stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map<br>

Nowhere to go except next show bro<br>

Entertainin motherfuckers can't stop O<br>

in battlin, you don't want me to start tattlin<br>

All upon the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattlin<br>

Bitch, you ain't got nothin on the rich<br>

Every other day my whole dress code switch<br>

So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry<br>

All y'all crab bitches ain't got to worry<br>

Can't get a nigga like Don dime a dozen<br>

Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out<br>

I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill<br>

See my face on the twenty dollar bill<br>

Cash it in, and get ten dollars back<br>

The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax<br>

Pass it in your think, put valve up to twelve<br>

Put all the other LP's back on the shelf<br>

And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7<br>

1-6-0-4-9-3-11<br>

And you could get long dick hip-hop affection<br>

I damage any MC who step in my direction<br>

I'm Staten Island's best son fuck what you heard<br>

Niggaz still talkin that shit is absurd<br>

My repotoire, is U.S.S.R.<br>

P.L.O. style got thrown out the car<br>

and ran over, by the Method Man jeep<br>

Divine can't define my style is so deep<br>

like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy<br>

like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine<br>

Cut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design<br>

I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind<br>

Cuz you weak in the knees, like SWV<br>

Tryin to get a title like Wu Killa Bee<br>

Kid change your habit, you know I'm friends with the Abbott<br>

Me and RZA ridin name printed in the tablet<br>

under vets, we paid our debts for mad years<br>

Hibernate the sound, and now we out like beers<br>

and blunt power, born physically power speakin<br>

The truth in the song be the pro-black teachin<br>

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