Wu-tang Clan


rate me




Intro: [LP Version]

He looks determined without being ruthless

Something heroic in this man, there's a courage about him

Doesn't look like a killer

Comes across so calm, acts like he has a dream

Full of passion

You don't trust me huh?

Well you know why

I do, we're not supposed to trust anyone in our profession anyway

Intro Two: Raekwon the Chef

Knock niggaz out the box all the time

Bitches on my motherfuckin records Pah

Big ones, yeah, big fuckers

Straight up, fuck your whole team

Yeah bust it

Yo, yo, fly G.I. niggaz

Chorus: Raekwon the Chef

Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out

It's for real though, let's connect politic - ditto!

We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases

Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces

Verse One: Raekwon the Chef

Thug related style attract millions

Fans, they understand my plan

Who's the kid up in the green Land?

Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose

Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised

Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin

Shuttin down your slot; time for pumpin

Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps

Raise a heavy generator

But yo, guess who's the black Trump?

Dough be flowin by the hour's

Wu, we got the collars, scholars

Word life, peace to power and my whole unit

Word up! Quick to set it, don't wet it

Real niggas lick shots, peace kinetic


Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef

Chef'll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable

Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue

But this time is for the uninvited

Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired

Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine

Niggaz recognize from here to Baltimore to Fort Greene

But hold up, Moet be tastin like throw-up

My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up

Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit Timbs

Wit Mac-10's and broke friends

Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do

you wanna battle for cash and see who Sun too?

I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax

niggaz lyrics is wack nigga

Can't stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin Scud missles

You rollin like Trump, you get your meat lumped

For real, it's just slang rap democracy

Here's the policy, slide off the ring, plus the Wallabees

Check the status, soon to see me at

Caesar's Palace eatin salads

We beatin mics and the keys to Dallas

I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell

From where we at to my man's cell

From staircase to stage, minimun wage

But soon to get a article in RapPage

But all I need is my house, my gat, my Ac

Bank account fat - it's goin' down like that

And pardon the French but let me speak Italian

Black Stallion, dwellin on Shaolin

That means the island of Staten

And niggaz carry gats and mad police from Manhattan


Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef

I do this for barber shop niggaz in the Plaza

Catchin asthma, Rae is stickin gun-flashers

Well-dressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones

Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one

upstairs, swithc like a chameleon

Hip Brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children

Leave the buildin

Niggas, yo they be foldin' like envelopes under pressure

Like Lou Farigno on coke

Yo, Africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs

Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the Arabs

Sit back, coolin like Kahlua's on rocks

On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots

You bitches who fuck dreds on Sudafeds

Pussy's hurtin, they did it for a yard for the Feds

Word up cousin, nigga, I seen it

Like a 27-inch Zenith - believe it!


...politic ditto

...get lifted in the staircases

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