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Текст песни Raekwon the Chef (f mic Ghostface Killer - Wisdom Body

Raekwon the Chef (f mic Ghostface Killer - Wisdom Body слова песни

Intro: _The Mack_No man all bitches are the same, just like my hoes, you knowI keep em brokeWake up one morning with some money they`re subject to go crazy you know?I keep em lookin good, pretty and all thatYou know, but no doughWhen I get a bitch, I got a bitch (right on)Lyrics: GhostfaceWord up, that motherfuckin brother wiseYouknowhatI`msayin? Teachin the uncivilizedYeah, runnin the streets, know it`s deepWord up, check his technique, yeahI be GhostfaceFlippin the, marvelous trackYeahYou know the steelo, but yo, yoCheck the bangin sounds that I inventFake niggaz who tried to flex hard came and wentThey couldn`t match up with the fly niggaWit his back against the wallHeads clapped once I came in the doorI played the speaker, sippin on KahluaSaw this bad bitch wit a switchAnd yo, I had to step to her in a mannerand rather wished the current was warmWhen I had reached her, I looked and knew the shit was onPeace, excuse me, allow to introduce myselfYo, I`m the man, and Honey, you`ve been rated top shelfYo, what`s your name hon, hair wrapped up in a bunYour eyes sparkle, just like glass in the sunNever diss em, it`s hard for a nigga just to miss emEspecially, when you`re browsin, goin fishinYour wasteline, bangin like a basslinePhysical form is well complexedAnd yo, I love your outline, BooYour whole body is wild, wit your rugged profileEnough to make a hard rock smileYou can`t strikeout, tell me what can really go wrongYou rockin` labels - Tommy Hil down to ClaiborneShow me some love hon, show me some love booShow me the vibe and I`ll be more than glad to shoot it throughAiyyo peep it, I know you love Victoria`s SecretAnd lovin` all the marvelous slang on how I freak itPlus, see you`re the type to make a nigga crashFar from trash, your flesh is way softer than a baby`s assYour body lotion is the potion, the shit got me open like dustAnd yo, your stee is high potent, yoWe can go the distance, I put you under wingsFrom this convo we can spark and see whatever bringsI walked a hot Arabian desert, barefootedI grabbed your hand, you grabbed my joint and knew where to put itWord up, yo, straight up and down yoCheck the joint, babyIt be the Wu-Tang productionYeah, yeah, and all types of shitAnd brothas catchin repercussionsYo, straight up

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