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Tytuł: Cobra Clutch

  • Wykonawca: Wu Tang Clan
  • Wy¶wietleń: 305
Yo, yeah bitch
  Aiyyo, motherfucker
  Aiyyo, swallow it
  
  Aiyyo we dazzle off this bloody version of 'Glaciers'
  Slang shot threw a gem in his mouth, swallowed his razor (wsssht)
  Say no more, my back be parked against the wall
  Trooper square holding, 'Face don't give a fuck about the law
  Take off the bracelets, don't get blinded by the ice Boo
  It's not cool, Veronica slept, plus the decimal
  Look at my jumper logo look familiar? It's Power (Where is he?)
  Yo every fine snitch knocks an inch off Eddie Bauer
  Gucci sneaker rockin just another form of 'Chessboxin'
  No cock-blockin, supreme clientele, till I'm droppin
  Kangol slanted, Ghost'll ran with it, hippie hung-out
  Club bandit never empty-handed when I brand it
  Mark callin Austin, Mark callin Austin down in Boston
  Both of them dead, cop in the loft and
  big chain swingin nigga, Matchbox car drivin
  Street whylin, Role' with the four-finger glidin
  Watch him, scorchin with spells and top toxin
  Amoxins til the stock skyrocket, Bobby Mocassin
  Switched from Pert Plus, escrow on the side throw in sun trust
  Ghost'll keep shinin til the sun bust
  yo word up, born-to-be right behind the curtain with her nose out
  Sixty center get the Rover out
  Featherhead heathens, teethin on mic dicks
  When thy said, "Let the kids die for your bread nigga!"
  
  Yo, promoters don't want us in clubs because we spaz out
  'Who is these righteous motherfuckers with they flags out?'
  Stapleton Projects, recognize you're lookin at
  Allah's best, puttin on the hits is no contest
  NOW, who the hypest in New York City?
  WU-TANG! Radio stop shittin on me!
  
  "I got fifty men out in the street
  Now if they all get bitch troubles I starve
  Is that it? Is that what you're tryin to tell me?"
  [Superfly]
  
  Aiyyo, the moccasin money, one man behind the plate
  Hold it down honey-shallah rock the half man Gumby
  Twisted, the mime of the floods, niggaz spell drama
  one oh five point six llama
  Cosmetic classical, slum is shield, Milagro Beanfield
  Watch me inhale half of you, new attributes
  Teletronics, DBX, one sixty X
  Compression with the A and sharp press
  Extract bass in which the gooey dew drips, vanilla suckle
  with jasmine bits, five hundred rap battin average
  One taste the bowl and blow up magic, Houdini escapes
  from the fermenting hell halls of tragic
  Speaking to the First of April's, deep in the rap game
  Erasial, Excedrin head bredderns catch facials
  Side orders, one telephone for take out
  Stomp your man half to death rob him then we break it
  Get off on the ?Clove? Exit, knees dirty, chick now
  with low leverage, watch it how she lick the head of me
  Cause it's law, order today, we pay dues
  New Tomorrow's, Rubik's Cube money in a tube
  Deck the Halls, crush salary dice that's in ? hall
  Hey y'all Peppermint Pattie's, slum my Peter Paul
  Wrangler, straight laid the track when it's sag
  with one banger, interlude loop caused me to hang up
  Ticklish, Crunchberry niggaz at the flicks pissed off
  Standin in the rain and can't find they whips
  Suckers! Motherfucker! Yo
  
  Yo, promoters don't want us in clubs because we spaz out
  'Who is these righteous motherfuckers with they flags out?'
  Stapleton Projects, recognize you're lookin at
  Allah's best, puttin on the hits is no contest
  NOW, who the hypest in New York City?
  WU-TANG! Radio stop shittin on me!