Текст песни RZA and Ghostface Killah - The Great White Hype soundtrack
RZA and Ghostface Killah - The Great White Hype soundtrack слова песни
Intro: RZA and Ghostface, Raekwon () and somebody []Word. Man fuck that niggaFuck that crab, ass, bitch [Who the live niggaz youknowhatI`msayin?][You niggaz know how to shoot joints] (Put down the gun son)[Elmira, Riker`s Island, coming from Brownsville] (Put down the gun son)Niggaz tried to front on my little sister (Put down the gun)[YouknowhatI`msayin we represent youknowhatI`msayin?][YouknowhatI`msayin? Big Tony Rhome, peace to my man Tony Rhome]They tried to, tried to front on this (Put down the gun son)[RZA respect youknowhatI`msayin? We keep it real] Yeah, check it out y`all (put down the, put down the gun son)[Put your guns down, throw your hands up] It`s on like that y`all word up, Iron Man comes back[Represent, you niggaz gotta shoot joints]Yo check itVerse One: RZAPut away your heaters, throw up your dick beatersAccurate blows to his nose shut his eyes closed to a centimeterBitches on the fences wonderin what the fuck the suspense isI land heavy uppercuts in the corner of the park fencesKnocked his mouthpiece front teeth got locked inside my knuckleHe grabbed the belt buckle, attempt to catch me with a coupleof low blows to the nuts, on ringside was as a giant du-elsSend your Barb for this fuckin jew On a WireHe couldn`t chessbox that`s when he reached for his ahhsBrother chopped me on the top of my knot, but he got stoppedWhen a twelve ounce bottle of Bartyle and James had him startledA bitch threw it caught him in his head, at full throttleHe fell, the glass crashed, he wasn`t saved by the bellThat was his ass blackSo when it comes to physical combatWe can take it hand to hand or go beyond thatDo you want my gat to make the contact?Retirin cats who lack the heart to fire back?[We take all crabs overboard]Chorus: RaekwonPut down the gun son, son matter of fact, shoot the one on oneHold it down, make sure the head, sure nuff don`t hit the groundLampin on the handball courts, or the square, we can take it thereSettle it son, who the champion?[It`s like that, niggaz want to front, one more time? I`ma show you like this. One on each side This is it word up. We gonna lay you back We gonna rest your back, you won`t know how to act When it come to bigger, showin and provin Niggaz styles is wack] Who the champion? Settle it son.Verse Two: Ghostface KillerYo!I had to run up on this King at Devine, for his shinesHe saw the stash and caught my mailbox for eighty dimesHe saw me stashin, like a pipe-link for mega fiendsI held it down like the finger fly miraculous KingPeep through the heavy small get the camoflougeStarks master in charge, pushin through ery buildin, sippin egg nogNiggaz know my status God body carry big battersFiends know me for my blue bags, besides smackin crabsand earnin mine, this bitch Sha cat, gotta get his back bentWhat the hell just made him fuck with my intelligent?Back to Polly and I heard some noise we pack a two twelveThere go Lord Shamel, faggot made a saleHe`s sellin my shit, I should slap fire out his assSnap his bones in half and watch the stock market crashI walked up on him, he had the nerve to say Peace GodAin`t nuttin Peace God, you stole it now we out in the streetsTake your shit off, nigga you soft, back up offYouse a shady nigga, I`m a sever fig you with a glossI snuffed him, threw a crazy left and I cuffed himAllah don`t like ugly so I held back from bustin himI passed the burn off, he caught me from the blind sideTapped a nigga jaw, I shot my fifty-two style, and crazy rawI had my ice on, tapped a few times, he started leakinDe King with the deadarm, Shamel fell to his knees andHe started wheezin, losin his breath from smokin trees andI`m still breathin, bleedin because it`s frontin seasonNow I got that project belt, international/nationalWorldwide, I let Shamel slideChorus