Raekwon

Raekwon - You Might Die

rate me

Yo, at night time, reflection from the mural

Federal bureau with ikes, did it all our lives

We Swiss bankers, cream making in Australia

Floss whales, we live, men, plus the son of the Mahalias

Gold plated horse with the wooden face, catch me up grace

Iceberg blanket, Queen Cheeba sheets

The Giganti's, paparazzi nazi, elbow money

Invisible glaciers, laying over rastas

Let the stars know, the crescent is the blessing

We came here to show and prove, make moves, for every dollar in the groove

Rhymes that's imported, wore platinum kitchens and shit

Niggas gave bitches, most got extorted

Yo, aqua swiss iceberg wrist, the chocolate swiss miss

Love the Spanish kid, with the Starburst twist

Marvelous, with the '59, 50 fitteds, matching the kicks

That's crispier than Saint Nicolas fish

Do take, niggas slipping the disk, Wop and Rae world premiere shit

Like Sermon and Smith, homey, my sermom is swift

I got them powerful verse, that if

This was a church, the'll give a cripple person a lift

And now he crip walking, I ain't just talking

I do this thing often, ask Kenyon Martin

Last week, I gave his chain a bone

And told him, take this with you to Boston (the kid's awesome)

From every borough to borough, every castle to castle

We connect, put it down, and we ask you

Real niggas rapidly past you, mumbling, come on

Standing right in front of the building, son, nigga, you might die

Yo, I came across the Verrazano, to polly with Mr. Polly, himself

Plus I need a pair of wally's with the cheddar melt

Goat snake skin to coincide with the belt

It's doe or die, baby, like Sosa, hold your penny up high

Aiyo, inkless colorless Aston, toast, nigga, post

One of the finest made taylors to sow

My medicine's growth, young popes, greatest of all time

Spoke, who drove off, had sixty horses on post

It's automatic magic, thirty kangols

Understand, fabric spray at faggots, close

The legacy's dying, fakers approach, hit him with the hater soap

Clap at your gators and snatch your hoe

It's the 2 double 0 3, version of the Cold Crush

And Force MC's, I'm bout to force mc's

To get their weight up, yo Rae, I'm a DJ, and I'm still telling

Rap cats, to step they game up, ain't that some shit, playa?

Hahaha, yeah bulletproof armor tank shit, nigga

P-9 material only, real niggas, Sing Sing style

Word up

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