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Текст песни Wu-Tang Clan - Rules

Wu-Tang Clan - Rules слова песни

[RZA]All you hoes, be cryin for these bitchesAll you niggaz, be cryin for these hoes{*scratched samples*}"Both hands clusty" - Ghost, "Pullin out gats" - Raekwon"Double barreled" - Meth, "Blew off the burner kinda dusty" - Ghost"We back, don`t test" - Raekwon, "Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth"Math, let the plate spin" - GZA, "Many brothers y`all be sparkin""Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot" - Inspectah Deck"If ya fuck with Wu, we gots ta fuck witchu" - Method Man[Ghostface Killah]Who the fuck knocked our buildings down?Who the man behind the World Trade massacres, step up nowWhere the four planes at huh is you insane bitch?Fly that shit over my hood and get blown to bits!No disrespect, that`s where I rest my headI understand you gotta rest yours true, nigga my people`s deadAmerica, together we stand, divided we fallMr. Bush sit down, I`m in charge of the war![Inspectah Deck]Yes yes y`all, the I-N-S bless y`allStop hearts like cholesterol, let`s brawlNever fall, tear it down like a wreckin ballRole call where my niggaz that`s one for allAnd all for one, we draw the guns on impulseCash in the envelope, spend it on kinfolkThen smoke a ounce as we count millsProvidin you pure ecstasy without pills[Chorus: Method Man]Y`all know the rules, we don`t fuck with fools manHow the fuck did we get so cool man?Never ever disrespect my crewIf ya fuck with Wu we gots ta fuck witchu[Masta Killa]Y`all dogs better guard ya grills, it`s all realWe live from (?), it`s the God I-ReelzYo wonderful, spark the blillzLet me build with the people for the millsI`m rollin with the Rebel I-Ill from Killa Hill, peace to BrownsvilleBrothers that`ll kill for the will of the righteousTwenty-five to lifers, true and livin snipersYou wait like "Sixth Sense" `til hard to kill[StreetLife]How you livin StreetLife? I`m surrounded by criminalsSerial killers tote guns without the serialHigh-tech, street intellect, all digitalProject original, sheisty individualNew York`s bravest, always supply you with the latestWe hall of famers, and still hit you with the greatestTook a year hiatus, now you wanna hate usThanks to all you haters for all the cream you made us[Chorus][Raekwon the Chef]Sendin letters to (?), my cousin in Wendy`s on ViacomAt home, it`s worth money, I adornsOrder drinks, all real niggaz order your minks yoWe got the fitteds on, lookin all finkDaddy everybody get money from now onPayday flash Visas livin like, Easter e`rydayDon`t fuck Benz, rather a 430That shit that float through water, eyeball come up, drop birdies yo[Method Man]We can eat right, or we can clap these toysI`m with StreetLife, ain`t never been a Backstreet BoyWho y`all kiddin? Tryin to act like my shoe fittinConfused with ya head up yo` ass like who`s shittin?It`s Hot Nixon, same team same positionBattin average three-five-seven and still hittinY`all still bitchin, still lame and still chickenI`m still here, one leg missin and still kickinCause I`m haaaaaaaaaaaard! Hard like a criminalLove like a tennis shoe, throw slug to finish youIt`s the Method Man, for short Mr. MethI can tell this motherfucker ain`t Wu, look at his neck"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth"Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth - "Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang"[Method Man]It`s Wu-Tang, rushin yo` gang, crushin the gamePretty thugs, clutchin they chain, hand cuppin they thangWho get strange, gassed up playin with flamesLet a nigga take off his shades, see what I`m sayin is..[Chorus]

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