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Текст песни Wu-Tang Clan - The W *

Wu-Tang Clan - The W * слова песни

* track 13 on non-US versions of the album[GZA (RZA)]I grew up around block parties ready to rockBehind the rope nigga with my rhymes on cockThe verse shot first nigga who had shit to popA bad weather blow the feathers off a hundred flocksWith 70% goose, 30 ducked, get stuckAnd each link in your chain is truckedNo ends in this rhyme cipher with nine snipersCharge of the kiss from the Pied PiperI live around DJ`s, b-boys, MC`sThrough rap never thinkin` +Airways+ are TVsIt was strictly all about magnificant rhyme clout+Rec Room+, 2 dollars with the flyer as we would doubtNow his wigs pushed backName 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 silentEverything you say can and will be used against y`all muh`fuckersAnd Mef can only trust ya as far as I can see yaMe need ya? That`ll be the.. day, ya bustaIt gets no rougher when, me and my comrades rush yaLike red heat with hammers and sicklesI milk like ya baby mama`s nipples, got issuesIt`s just us, so what`s what if any can touch usThen lord strike me down where I stand at nowwit this bottle of Remy, gettin` fucked up child, listenThe most notable MC, ya source for hip hop quotable MCOf course it`s Tical![Chorus][U-God]The Princess, the Pope, incest, dopeChoke you by the throat, the chrome handle smokeThe man not for joke, we all out for brokePlus the herbal that I tote, the murder that I wroteYou can`t do me none, my Uzi weighs a tonI`m comin` from the slum, Wu is number oneI 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 whipsFlashin` mega bricks, outfits, rock ridiculous whips, bitchWavy hair, men of the year, bent in the stairsSick winter gear, been on position is whereCall him an Asiatic God-body, +Longevity+Slang rap, you get your whip wrappedSwing through the hood calmlyYo what up? Staten Island, Bush, GeorgeDust shut shit off, whips spin offGet off, slips, which, wizMind di-tects mines, lines lick sick ninesPick wines, lift up, bill a nigga six fliesDip wide, dress my shit up, fuck six times, wish mineRub lamps, take thousand dollar crystalines[Chorus]

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