I despise your killing, and raping You're... despicable Are you, my judge? It's just... you should be punished I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready? Verse One: U-God Yo, yeah, yo, yo Yo, yeah Check these high hats sting things moving through the rubbish Party robust, rec room style for you brothers Time's ticking, eruptments conduct Entering one funk before the drum dry up Dial, style, jab vocab slow Alphabet run, construction voice might blow Tap dance swelling Hemingway novel model For a breather, dirty reefer hide your bottle Cut down, come with something that's round and profound Blood brothers people of colors we get down Watch this fly, force feed things being said Nine Diagram acid black evil red left his mic half a dangle, seriouser man My mic clapper def wish, everlasting plan heavenly God body, know me as the cleaner Night champion, old villain style seem a kiss of spider, to God saga why bother Godfather talk drama, fly swatters Number two, Chao San Poi Verse Two: The Genius/GZA This Wu shit be hard to kill and full blown Rhymes filtered through the net before words hit the chrome Pro tools editing tracks that's rough Cause a jam without a live MC isn't enough So we attack this, and grab all within reach Throw a scrap back to niggaz - perfect your own speech Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands Niggaz look on, and get hooked on this mic line Real thin and shift through the pipeline LP's delivered with style and potential Niggaz flowin smoothly in a sequential order, revealin hidden tape recorders Stashed inside pockets of those who lack aura Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef Twist the DAC up, them niggaz with math is back up Watch he act up, fifty-two block track we slap up Playground maneuver, jet to Vancouver like this Two Kahluas one chick she's German Luger Get the shit on, light a fresh pack, bust it open with the seal on Dunn, deal on this, with the real on Next, Rocky, ring, call it to Decatur Slang soufleer home decorater, player Mic immigrants, nine of us formed resemblance Somethin flashy, God dead-armed is nasty Peep the ornaments enough to make Shorty-Wop stare at me yo He killed the God might as well throw a chair at me Verse Four: Prince Rakeem/RZA Yo MC's wonder what's hip-hop thunder Tell you the truth it's just one nation under a groove Gettin down for the funk of it Like Fred Sanford in the biz... Yo one held his paraphenalia, a Wu memorabilia Mailed by the fortune teller, tried to tell ya bout the group recruit we scoop up CREAM like Breyer's Then spread across the globe like telephone wires Thirty-six assorted, Shaolin imported chambers been recorded, you're fuckin with the loops Time for royalty audit Fabulous establishment metabolism, Blackfoot Indian Cherokee started out smaller than amphibian Then grew to a physical body with five meridians As the pendulum swings closer to the millenium two thousand, wickedness is spread amongst my citizen I got a muscle the industrial to make a hustle and politic with Leo and Russell When niggaz is still rushin we'll brush you He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives Verse Five: Masta Killa Thoughts are contained in the trenches of the brain ignite, blowin the mic to Arabian heights As I recite this medley, niggaz couldn't fuck with the deadly ground I hold down Classical gangland style, shots hit the ceiling Panic and confusion echoes through the building Continuing to build, I strive for perfection Driven by the will to live, glocks I hold Shots I give, while searchers of rescue teams look for means of survival and who's liable for this harrowing experience You scream for the extreme, fiend for the cap and proceeds of the Wu-Tang Academy To fuck up your anatomy with assault and battery Number two, Chao San Poi Number two, Chao San Poi He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives Number one, Yen Chang Wa He's an adulterer, don't trust him Number two, Chao San Poi Number two, Chao San Poi He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives I despise your killing, and raping You're... despicable Are you, my judge? It's just... you should be punished I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready? I despise your killing, and raping You're... despicable Are you, my judge? It's just... you should be punished I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready? © N/A Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com