Onyx

Onyx - The Worst songtekst

Je score:
                     

 Wu-tangwu-tangonyxonyx (x3)



[raekwon]

Ehyo

Staircases to stage nowmajor waves tanktop

Nauticaflippin your daughter 30 ways

Yeahwho want minebent outta shape one time

Play em all starin at your beautiful sunshine

Watch my shit shitniggaz in the backwigs lit

You know the stats godniggaz in the backbacks lit

War drug rapsthug hats and mobb hats

Spit on that catthis yellow lovenigga fuckin with a rich cat

My shit now 5 feet 6with a crisp hat

Plus this throwin now on 30 bricksniggaz is with that

Yofedrados rock my manyo

300 thousand dollars in a bottlebitch mad as hollow

My techiniqueroller in the roadgold league

You know the code readsuitcase moneystole heat

Rock madby's stole 100 dollar bagsthough

That nigga grabbed megamin himself like milton bradley



[fredro starr(x-1)]

Yothis semi-automaticglock this and lock this

Heat spots can knock itit's so hot chicks is topless

Rims are spotlesschrome rims spin obnoxtious

You knock thisbust a shot

Don't missyou better knock this

(x-1 while out and watch this

Til your eyes turn red with blotches

Eatin scraps out the garbage

Unload a cartridge and bust a cap

X could never trust a catonyx is as hot as it gets

Bitches fuckin for freeis outta the quest

Blow blood outta your fleshyour body outta your vest)

I cross the heat from across the street

Fly you up off your feetyou die leaving short but sweet

Street crimetime is moneynigga don't waist mine

Dispose my 9throwin your shineyour froze in time

Lookin to deathholdin your breathlaided out

On the dance floorblood and moetI'm blowin your set

Trick 20 g'sdon't sweatyour goin to death

I'm goin for brokeI'm blowin out smokeyour catchin strokes

(wu-tang and bald headswis foreheadsleavin you all red

X millionfully be on illestyour realest formbringin the storm

For seein you gonenothin keepin my calmbut heat in my palm

Sleepin I'm goneyou see what I'm on

Keepin outta the darkscatter your parts

From here to battery parts)



Chorus: [odb {sampled from "protect ya neck"}]

First things first manyour fuckin with the worst (x3)

You can't slamso let me get fooled on a man



[suave]

Still master graphafter cash graphedget staffed

Splash your classmash your staff

Whatnigga get smackedyou ain't worth a punch

Hurt your bunchget mercked your front

In the wrong certain punkmack clever niggaz

Def wreckercatch on a delo with mecca and etcha-sketcha

Shakinerasevacatin your spacebreakin your face

Twist youand won't miss youofficial master killer bee

Full blastget offsmashpull fast

For your stashlong as the war lastput up in your ass

Tryin to count more mathbringin the hardcore rap



[killa sin]

We be the mainstreamsupreme rhymetop of the line

Cuisine feens#1 love for thugs queens sceamin on cream

My whole team love e-cup bras and mobb cars

Killa sin known for makin niggaz reach for the stars

This terroristlyricist in the mist of the abyss

CanibusevangelistI impulse with metal fists

Wu build like construction and bang like precusion

On the planet batterybacks combustinmalfunctionwhat



Chorus x2



[method man(sticky fingaz)]

(holy shitwho the fuck is that)

It's johnjohn (sticky fingazkidyou got my back)

I got your back cousin (I got the mac cousin)

And when them niggaz start jumpinbust back cousin

(because it's the new yeartime for some new shit

Nowadays rappers dyin over music)

Dead on arrivalwe raised in the ghetto singin songs

For survivalduckin homicidalyou rival

(yeahonyxwu-tang on tracks we gang bangchiti bang bang)

Chiti chiti bang banghot nicks spit flame

Lava pump through my vainscaught in the zone

Home on the range

(ehyo you ready for the ferociousatrocious

We go that supercalfragilisticexbealli...) dose shit

(8-ball in the corner pocket)

We snatch wallets off the white college

The big apple forever rotten

Now when it comes to hard target hot nicks

(so what the bullet clot)

Pop shitwe due to knowledgeto sharp niggasonce bitten

Major swingersheavy hittinpoly your kittenthrow up your mitten

Stop bitchinno slippinno pot to piss in

Them meltin pots boilin hot now in mel's kitchen

(yosticky fingazone of the illest mother fuckers

My moms don't raise no suckersI slap rappers

Turn em in to singerstouch something of mine and you'll have 9 fingers)

Enough saidlet's make whole fuckin town read

(and rip their whole crew to a shread

I got cold blood) hold your club (I hold blood) show no love

(so bug) shoot your whole club (and shoot up the whole club)

We throw slugs (you ain't no thug

I earn every God damn penny that I got

SonI roll with a shotgun in the convertible

I wish a nigga with woodwould try to fuckin

Jack meI'll murder you)



Chorus



Wu-tangwu-tangonyxonyx (x2)                      
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Taal: Engels

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