Raekwon The Chef

Raekwon The Chef - Verbal Intercourse lyrics

Your rating:

[Rae] No tricks  no tricks baby
 [Nas] Yeah  aiyyo Rae
 [Ghf] Check it out y'all
 [Nas] It's the science
 [Ghf] Fly wonderful
 [Rae] Yeah y'all
 [Nas] Tony Starks and umm Lex Diamonds
 [Ghf] Tony Starks  my nigga Nas
 [Rae] Strength my whole team is eatin off this type of shit
 [Nas] For all the fake niggaz out there  yaknahmean
 [Ghf] Word up
 [Rae] Good shit, nigga next time, no more whatever shit
 [Nas] Fakes be celebratin but they be mistaken
 [Ghf] Word to the wise
 [Rae] Keep your eyes open and your wallet in your front pocket
 [Ghf] All types of shit, yo son
 [Rae] Rock it, RZA Chef Ghost and Nas niggaz is the prophet
 [Nas] Tell em it's on right?
 [Ghf] Show those crabs how to rhyme
 [Rae] RZA Chef Ghost and Nas niggaz is the prophet
 [Ghf] It's only like five percent out of a hundred
 [Rae] RZA Chef Ghost and Nas niggaz is the prophet
 [Ghf] Do it to em baby

 Verse One: Nas

 Through the lights cameras and action, glamour glitters and gold
 I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
 When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
 to conquer peace leaving savages to roam in the streets
 Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
 Trick my Wisdom, with the system that imprisoned my son
 Smoke a gold leaf I hold heat, nonchalantly
 I'm grungy, but things I do is real it never haunts me
 while, funny style niggaz roll in the pile
 Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
 Holdin weed inside they pussy with they minds on the
 pretty things in life, props is a true thug's wife
 It's like a cycle, niggaz come home, some'll go in
 Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
 From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
 Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual

 Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef

 Perhaps bullets bust niggaz discuss mad money
 True lies and white guys, we can see it through the eyes
 Catch the most on tape, kilos disintegrate
 Pyrex pots, we break, fiends lickin plates
 In the building niggaz building, like little children starin
 Them older niggaz aint carin
 Sirens circlin fiends are lurkin in your baggage
 oh, one's gone now, what, smack him in his cabbage
 In the woodwork, crack cells bubble like Woolworth's
 in the projects, richest niggaz rockin all the real worth
 Police questioning, rooftop cats invested in
 Tradin in they Lexus' GS's sendin messages
 Two and two makes four, Cristal's crazily pour
 Gun wars my crew phantom like swords

 Verse Three: Ghostface Killer

 With the green leathers, hunded pound snakes and cakes
 Fiends found in lakes, jeolously Jakes we shake
 What I strive for is what I live for
 Infatuated by material things, and it's wild like for war
 like somewhere over the rainbow, I see a big pot of gold
 Future stacks yo I hold
 Thousands of cracks bagged up inside the shoebox
 Don't keep jack in my lap, don't wanna see Tupac
 Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
 Shoot-outs making me hot, crooked cops Bad Tony and the ball drop
 In the Now, I'm bangin niggaz for slide time
 Hurry up Duke I'm next, show em mine
 And what the fuck is you looking at?
 By the way young blood, hit me off with that Green Bay hat
 Watch your back inside the hall, new niggaz slide through
 like doors yo, you're starin in the mess hall
 Your adrenaline runs, cigarette niggas be swindlin
 New jacks surrenderin, come home not rememberin
 Made bail with different size kicks on, a white dress shirt
 Lookin gay in the yard, and you got hurt
 Flashbacks, of the day room, mop ringer style
 Your faggot ass got bashed tryin to turn the dial
 You told your boo you was whylin
 Once you heard Wu, out of the blue, your family's from Shaolin
 High class cooks, throw on vestes out of phone books
 Infirmary niggas are screaming, "I got drugs!"
 Sharpen toothbrushes 190 mixed with baby oil and shit
 Your man's in the kitchen stashing ice picks
 Well I'ma end this with a big red cherry on top
 Me, Nas and Rae got the best product on the block

 [Rae] Strength my whole team is eatin off this type of shit
 [Ghf] Word up, throw your hands up
 [Rae] Good shit, nigga next time, no more whatever shit
 [Ghf] Cock back the Mac an say whatever
 [Rae] Keep your eyes open and your wallet in your front pocket
 [Ghf] Your Hawaiian's stale, exoticness, fly shit
 [Rae] RZA Chef Ghost and Nas niggaz is the prophet
 [Ghf] Floatin on in nine-five in the basement
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found