Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
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Артист: Ghostface KillahНазвание : Box In HandДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : hip-hop rap wu-tang wu-tang clan east coast Видео:
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ft. Raekwon, Method Man [Intro: sung] Wu Tang will survive, no no no-no no no Wu Tang will survive Cause every time they flip a party You know the party screams and shouts Cause you... DAMN! Aw, TC that was the bomb... [Ghostface] Get all my peoples,get all my peoples headphones All of em Lay em a death warrant Aaaah, yo, show it off, kid, show em, what, what Let em have it, bust it, hey yo, hey yo [Verse One: Raekwon] Blend wine, who want to win mine Shorty get a ten-round for floatin With the richest, huh Flexed out, Flinstone style Your crimi-nal pen pal kidnapped Loud, jetted the Mosyin, posin for them niggaz up in Poland Rollin wax style museum, G `em Them richest niggaz bless this Like Russian cut VVS`s Slide the hatchback, black were finessing this Them niggaz over there know, Gazelle goggles And them Lottos, 88 style, throwin` bottles (bottles) Scenario rap, rap imperial, material (uh, yo yo, yo, yo) Murderin` cats is like that real [Verse Two: Ghostface] Yo come do me somethin word to Michelob peep the Land Rov` Sleeper hold club faggots lay your dome on a stove It`s like space kid, the whole world is pitch black, granola rap Dough got smaller famous team, walked up in Photomat Black down, numerous rounds, boots is brown Getaway driver, this white bitch from out of town We love horse races shakin Jakes and high-speed chases Porno stations, drinkin violations, God relations 90 minute Maxell tapes, instrumental breaks Bangin earaches, lay my verse down in two takes The speaker pops, the Winchester rifle`s in the kitchen Murder the DJ`s eyes twitchin, woofer hissin [Interlude: Raekwon] Yo, he`s strong armin, manipulatin niggaz, scrapin niggaz Takin play from niggaz, hate fakin niggaz, yo you hear me? The whole shit`s like wrestling What you dare me? Back the fuck up kid, we flexin [Verse Three: Method Man] This rap shit bust yo` gums, and leave you stunned Pull your plug, now you can`t function There`s no to-tal or sum to this equa-tion, you fro-zen Many may come but few are cho-sen Pretty niggaz want to play the war po-sin When the ruckus come, they be the first to get their shine stolen Do or die, it be I, Meta-physical Man Holding court from my Wu, indivisible clan I see your thoughts and your hand reachin It`s getting deep in this mud Cats heat seekin, for one blood Nameless thugs with aimless slugs, shootin at these stank bitches Less he gon` bring this above, I make switches From the lamp I grant three wishes Johnny be parlayin, I Blaze britches, then I roll One hundred percent mind, one hundred percent body One hundred percent soul, individual Assholes tend to run From this PLO extortion to the one The next chamber, you fuckin with the star spangler To the dawn`s early light with this head-banger Boogie, represent this shit fully Like I`m constantly at war with the town bully Who want that pressure, about to get smacked silly Like a fat bitch in Spandex, free Willy! We on some milli, check the joint, engine number nine Niggaz wastin time worryin about me and mine Get your own shit | Похожие исполнители:
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