Wu-tang Clan

Wu-tang Clan - Duck Seazon

rate me

[Raekwon the Chef]

Scrape y'all motherfuckers

This is my word, when you see us

When you see us flashing and shining

And building and adding on

Y'all niggaz just watch it, hear me

Only ones that who we got respect for

Is them niggaz that we say peace to

Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on

Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again

Pirahna niggaz bite dick, yo Son, it's on again

What up, he made a move, try to assist it

Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop

Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical

How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle

Now my proposal, it's the global

From California to courts, it's over God, so taste the tofu

Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November

Shorty called me Santa in December

But guess what, my Wally's got messed up

Autograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest up

We scrape that, Land O' Lake that

My dolo rapper get you sent back

Represent the gentlemens who bent that

Flash medallions like Italians

La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a poster

Flex this, Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement

So keep the bust the gun Boo

Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents

Add on, the billboard sloan

Check it now, you get the gold dick award

It's like jail and it's the sixth floor

Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see

Half of y'all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree

Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo

Stay militant kid, push it like bolo

You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it

Face one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one

Please, y'all niggaz money getting low

But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough

Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all

So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down

Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, battle for cream nigga


You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing

I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings

No more said, knew your chump ass was dead

When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead

It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga

Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game

Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian

Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs

still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles

We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds

We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility

In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities

Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary

Microphone post tone like a rotary phone

Age of poems and poetry, old sloans

Explosive head bullets, black hooded

Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips

And know how to put it in you

Surrender your goods and your merchandise

For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist

For your ice and curtains and vice

Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society

Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety

And lead them to defy me, diary...

I need 18 points for my next joint

This high and mointed king, to make a deal

I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing

To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping

I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars

And built with thousands of scholars

My life saga from the hildred of horor

Legal kid brown in Nicaragua

Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers

We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips

And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips

Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment

But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons

Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in

Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections

[Method Man]

This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation

Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours

The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for

It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet

Niggaz is foul in this duck season

We add odds till we even motherfucker

Bad asses, high times, lower classes

Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses

Bring it to him, room service, under pressure

And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy

Ticallion, we ain't worried

Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty

Picture this, watch the birdy

This bastards is rolling dirty

With sharp pins that be stabbing you

Pins and needles, needles and pins

Nuff said, dick in your mouth

Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds

Ducking the feds

[Raekwon the Chef]

Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son

Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords

That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight

Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate

Reconstruction, that's the whole science of mine

Production, ya'll niggas guess who stuck son

Left his meth son, switch, finger itch

Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y'all niggaz snitch

Youse a loner, Adidas shell top with lye

sipping Corona, read the rev report then bone her

Buy you some jewels, here's some food

Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo

We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom

Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs

Chill, y'all niggaz know what time it is

James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and

check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan

He cought a slug for lying

Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying

Militia, rolling in position

Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian

Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found