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Текст песни WU - TANG CLAN

WU - TANG CLAN слова песни



Текст песни WU-TANG CLAN - Do You Really (Thang Thang)




Yo, this is a Wu-Banger two thousand and one noise makeroff the hook guerilla anthemThis is DJ Kay Slay, from around the wayAnd I'll smack the shit outta any of you DJ'sthat front on this shit.. think I'm playin?[Hook x2 (Method Man)]( )I heard you ladies got them Thang ThangsDo you really?I heard you niggas like to bang bangDo you really?[StreetLife]I never been a fan of the fameI got love for the gameNever lust for the damesI got dust in my veinsHit 'em off in the brainKid talks but its lameSniffed a little blow with the rap Eddie KaneSpent a lot of dough, its so hard to explainAnd i fucked a lot of bitches off the strength of the nameWu Tang see me in the next Lex with the gameSnowboarding down a ski range, its a blue and grey frameKeep, pointing the finger, I'm that nigga to blameThe main reson why you duck the chainSelf proclaimed, got a lotta profit to gainAnd I'm leaving the rap game the same way I came[Method Man]Now creep with me, as I roll through the StatLittle Meth got my back, little pinky fat-fatLet me hit that (draws), contact, learn how to actBefore you bring that drama the end; I'll fade to blackPositive, I hate kids who tell me liesDespise guys that wanna get high but never buyGot 9 lives, 9 wives that dont listenBitchin' their biological clocks is tickin'Wu limited edition hot off the pressesI guess its, curtains for competitionMethod, runnin' 'em out, gun in my mouthThe kid your momma warned you about, tear down the houseAfter midnight eatin' emcees chase through suburbiaYou tremblin', behind a crumblin' wall, surrenderin'Thats what you get, for rushin' in the direction I was bustin'Polish your sword, your shit is rustin'[Hook x2][Masta Killa]1,2, testin', testin', mic check wreckin'Step into the sessionAutomatic weapon off safetyDont play meButt brings all them things with silencersMy clans liver than your average '85erStrive to stay aliveI play for keeps in the streetsCos its real on the battlefieldShells hit the ground from the steelBullets travel, sun set fire to your mindWords combine when I rhyme to feed the blindPrepare my queen for battle and walk downI drink from the wine of violence, no toleranceGame word bond, sword silencedMe in military fatigues bulletproof underneathBuy enough ammunition,go round and sweep the streetsOf Brooklyn, Central, sugar-whipped the rentalWhile I'm lickin out the window at y'allFuck y'all




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