Wu-tang Clan

Wu-tang Clan - The W lyrics

rate me

[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]

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found