Plug, word yo I'm sayin'? Know, you know we had the baddest Motherfuckin' unit back in the days, kid You know that? You know what I'm sayin'? I miss all my niggas though believe me And I'll never forget none of 'em Stovetop, Roofside, you know what I say I had these motherfuckin', all these wild-ass niggas man You know what I say, LB? Shit is wild overall, you know what I'm sayin', God? Word up, you know what I'm sayin'? So you let my shit go on the count of three, though You know what I'm sayin'? Fake niggas throw shit in they drinks Club nights we snatch linx politic, Africans and chinks While World of Sport niggas snort coke by the seconds Niggas projects filled with fiends injectin' Morphine, the God seen more cream and upstate Cousin Reek, almost got hit with fourteen' Chill Pah, the God'll be a star when you come home Light bones and let you rock my 3G stone So see cousin, yo, I was workin', cats I'm jerkin' And uptown these niggas actin' like they hurtin', keys twenty-four a brick Columbians be on some bullshit, that's why Poppy got hit Stay tuned, word up, I hope to see you in June By the way, I seen your bitch, she was up in this cat's room Skeyed up, weed the fuck up, to top it off Look beat up, with two crack fiends huggin' your seed up I took care of that, though, but don't worry 'bout it, I got your back though Yo, why's my niggas always yellin' that broke shit Let's get moneys son, now you wanna smoke shit Chill God, yo, the Son don't chill Allah What's today's mathematic son, Knowledge God Fly like cashmere, last year, my team caught bodies in Gravesmere Hit a store owner named Mike Lavonia Italiano, slanted-eyed bangin' them fat Milano Selling coke right out the bottle Sometime, a nigga brought nines to test with minds Crazy peace, buying keys in Greece Was a rich nigga, picture the nigga without dope figures Condo with his chick, rockin' the gold vigor Mafia flicks, tyin' up tricks was his main hobby Teachin' his seed, Wu-Tang karate Mixin' drinks in clubs, hairy chest with many minks Night time rollin' with spics Extra live, he claimed he couldn't die, top rank Sixteen shots in his fist to bank And his pet piranha, he named him marijuana Smokin' ganja, callin' his weed paisandra Claimin' New York was ancient Babylon Where the sky stayed the color of grey, like her-on I can't front though, truck loads of indo Soon to blow slow, his ass is out now, tally-hoe Yo, why's my niggas always yellin' that broke shit Let's get moneys son, now you wanna smoke shit Chill God, yo, the Son don't chill Allah What's today's mathematic son, Knowledge God Why's my niggas always yellin' that broke shit Let's get moneys son, now you wanna smoke shit Chill God, yo, the Son don't chill Allah What's today's mathematic son, Knowledge God Yo, why's my niggas always yellin' that broke shit Let's get moneys son, now you wanna smoke shit Chill God, yo, the Son don't chill Allah What's today's mathematic son, Knowledge God Yeah, uh huh, uh huh, Miami niggas Word up, show your love Yeah y'all, yeah y'all, yeah Word up, London, Europe, Africa Word up, the fifty-two states, yeah Catch me later, word up, yeah, yeah About to make moves and slide like grease Moves and slide like grease © WU TANG PUBLISHING; RAMECCA PUBLISHING; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com