Wu-Tang Clan

Wu-Tang Clan - Duck Season songtekst

Je score:

Scrape y'all motherfuckers
 This is my word, when you see us
 When you see us flashing and shining
 And building and adding on
 Y'all niggaz just watch it, hear me
 Only ones that who we got respect for
 Is them niggaz that we say peace to
 Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on
 Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again
 Pirahna niggaz bite dick, yo Son, it's on again
 What up, he made a move, try to assist it
 Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop
 Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical
 How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle
 Now my proposal, it's the global
 From California to courts, it's over God, so taste the tofu
 Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November
 Shorty called me Santa in December
 But guess what, my Wally's got messed up
 Autograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest up
 We scrape that, Land O' Lake that
 My dolo rapper get you sent back
 Represent the gentlemens who bent that
 Flash medallions like Italians
 La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a poster
 Flex this, Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement
 So keep the bust the gun Boo
 Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents
 Add on, the billboard sloan
 Check it now, you get the gold dick award
 It's like jail and it's the sixth floor
 Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see
 Half of y'all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree
 Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo
 Stay militant kid, push it like bolo
 You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it
 Face one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one
 Please, y'all niggaz money getting low
 But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough
 Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
 So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down
 Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, battle for cream nigga

 [RZA]
 You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing
 I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings
 No more said, knew your chump ass was dead
 When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead
 It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga
 Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game
 Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian
 Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs
 still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles
 We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds
 We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility
 In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities
 Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary
 Microphone post tone like a rotary phone
 Age of poems and poetry, old sloans
 Explosive head bullets, black hooded
 Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips
 And know how to put it in you
 Surrender your goods and your merchandise
 For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist
 For your ice and curtains and vice
 Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society
 Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety
 And lead them to defy me, diary...
 I need 18 points for my next joint
 This high and mointed king, to make a deal
 I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing
 To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping
 I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars
 And built with thousands of scholars
 My life saga from the hildred of horor
 Legal kid brown in Nicaragua
 Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers
 We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips
 And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips
 Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment
 But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons
 Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in
 Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections

 [Method Man]
 This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation
 Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours
 The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for
 It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet
 Niggaz is foul in this duck season
 We add odds till we even motherfucker
 Bad asses, high times, lower classes
 Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses
 Bring it to him, room service, under pressure
 And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy
 Ticallion, we ain't worried
 Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty
 Picture this, watch the birdy
 This bastards is rolling dirty
 With sharp pins that be stabbing you
 Pins and needles, needles and pins
 Nuff said, dick in your mouth
 Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds
 Ducking the feds

 [Ghostface]
 Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son
 Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords
 That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight
 Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate
 Reconstruction, that's the whole science of mine
 Production, ya'll niggas guess who stuck son
 Left his meth son, switch, finger itch
 Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y'all niggaz snitch
 Youse a loner, Adidas shell top with lye
 sipping Corona, read the rev report then bone her
 Buy you some jewels, here's some food
 Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo
 We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom
 Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs
 Chill, y'all niggaz know what time it is
 James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and
 check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan
 He cought a slug for lying
 Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying
 Militia, rolling in position
 Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian
 Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks
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Taal: Engels

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