Tytuł: Iron Maiden

• Wykonawca: Ghostface Killah
• Wyświetleń: 389

[Intro: (from the motion picture "Fresh")]
  
  (What you doin' on our turf, punk?
  Got a message for Smokey.
  Give it.
  You Smokey, man?
  Give it!
  If you ain't Smokey, it ain't yo' motherfuckin' message
  Motherfucker, I said gimme the message!
  It's from Willie, in the slam.
  Nigga, you been busted?
  Yeah, the man picked me up.
  Well, I ain't got no fuckin' time to play witchu! Now gimme the message.
  Willie's in Warwick, doin' 1-3. Told me to tell y'all motherfuckers to
  keep cool. He be out one way or another. Quick. Maybe I could stick
  around for awhile.
  Naw, that's out, man. You know? What can we, The Lords, do with a punk like
  you?
  Kiss my ass, motherfucker! (Burn 'em) Just me and you, motherfucker, just
  me and you. I put trademarks around your fuckin' eye!)
  
  (Portrayin', won't be payin'. Uh huh, Uh huh)
  (Yeah, no doubt, no doubt, this Wally champ cat. Yeah, it's on this one)
  
  [Raekwon:]
  
  Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs
  Deluxe rap cavaliers
  Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs
  
  [Chorus: Raekwon]
  
  Sit back jollyin'
  My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
  Drug Somalians pollyin'
  
  [Verse One: Raekwon]
  
  Many raps they crochetin'
  Ay yo Iron, these niggas portrayin'
  But haven't been payin'
  For real, slide on these niggas like flesh fear
  Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade
  Throw a blade, fuck gettin' laid
  Guzzle this shit like Gatorade
  Big-dick Wallies have never half-suede
  Connectin' with the hot style is done
  Light up a chalis
  I run with nuttin' but the wildest, foulest
  Come on now, long-dick style
  Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out
  Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
  Been doin' this century kid, just meant to be
  Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
  Skiin' off by P.M.
  Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
  Fellatium style, play it like thirty-two Arabians
  The greatest lesson is don't owe, you might get stole on
  When I go bury me wit Valow on
  
  (They come to me, and understand, just let me get mines first. Then after I
  get mines, y'all can do what y'all wanna do. Fuck 'em up bad)
  
  [Verse Two: Ghostface]
  
  'Sho 'nuff, hit the bank and thrust
  Cool Nauticas Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus
  We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label
  Hittin' white-label, left the Winnebago unstable
  Smooth sailin', walked in, my earth started kneelin'
  Started stealin', I'm too ill, see we're bellin' at the parlay
  Kicked up, mack, max motion
  Michael Bolton magazine call, I'm too potent
  Louisville mix pain kill rap, Fuck benadryl
  The violin in 'Knowledge God' sounded ill
  Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches
  My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless
  Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror
  Me and my girl'll run like Luke and Laura
  We sit back on Malayan islands
  Sippin' mix drinks out of boat coconut bowls, we whylin'
  
  [(Break) Raekwon:]
  
  Sit back jollyin', Uh huh, Uh huh
  Uh huh, Uh huh, Sit back jollyin'
  Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh
  
  [(Chorus) x 2]
  
  Sit back
  
  [Verse Three: Cappadonna]
  
  Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard
  Rap para-medical the wizard
  Cappadonna, never caterin' to none
  My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter
  You oughta five thousand back across the water
  My laboratory story keep me flowin' with the glory
  Acapella or deep dirty instrumental
  I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew
  One gallon of whylin', Park Hill profilin'
  I cut your face up rough fifty sure while you're smilin'
  For violatin' my position,
  I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission
  Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance
  Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence
  Person to person, it'd be hard for you to take a trophy
  You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me
  'Cause I'm P-L-O T-K-O every day
  Dancehall General, Party Fanatic Colonel
  Cappadonna son'a old school just go infernal
  Veteran for rappin' with the new set of rule of hard rappin'
  Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clappin'
  When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle
  I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the methtical
  Every evenin', I have a by myself meetin'
  Thinkin' who's gonna be the next to catch a beatin'
  From my mental slangin', bitchin' rap twist the point of warfare
  I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair
  Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom
  I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it
  Gimme my rewards
  
  (The way I, the way I wanna get 'em. I want 'em gotten. I want 'em layin'
  out. I want 'em gotten. 'Cause niggas need to be gotten. He need to be
  taken off of here. That's right.)