| Yo, yeah bitch
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| Aiyyo, motherfucker
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| Aiyyo, swallow it Aiyyo we? |
| dash log? |
| this bloody version of 'glaciers'
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| Slang shot threw a gem in his mouth, swallowed his razor (wsssht)
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| Say no more, my fat beat parked against the wall
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| Trooper square holding, 'face don’t give a fuck about the law
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| Take off the bracelets, don’t get blinded by the ice boo
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| It’s not cool, veronica slept, plus the decimal
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| Look at my temple logo look familiar? |
| it’s power (where is he?)
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| Yo every fine snitch knocks an inch off eddie bauer
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| Gucci sneaker rockin just another form of 'chessboxin'
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| No cock-blockin, supreme clientele, till i’m droppin
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| Kangol slanted, ghost’ll ran with it, hippie hung-out
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| Club bandit never empty-handed when i brand it Mark callin austin, mark callin austin down in boston
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| Both of them dead, cop in the loft and
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| Big chain swingin nigga, matchbox car drivin
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| Street whylin, role’with the four-finger glidin
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| Watch him, scorchin with spells and top toxin
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| Amoxins til the stock skyrocket, bobby mocassin
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| Switched from pert plus, escrow on the side throw in sun trust
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| Ghost’ll keep shinin til the sun bust
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| Yo word up, born-to-be right behind the curtain with her nose out
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| Sixty center get the rover out
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| Featherhead heathens, teethin on mic dicks
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| When thy said, «let the kids die for your bread nigga!»
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| Yo, promoters don’t want us in clubs because we spaz out
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| 'who is these righteous motherfuckers with they flags out?'
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| Stapleton projects, recognize you’re lookin at Allah’s best, puttin on the hits is no contest
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| Now, who the hypest in new york city?
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| Wu-tang! |
| radio stop shittin on me!
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| «i got fifty men out in the street
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| Now if they all get bitch troubles i starve
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| Is that it? |
| is that what you’re tryin to tell me?»
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| -→superfly
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| Aiyyo, the moccasin money, one man behind the plate
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| Hold it down honey-shallah rock the half man gumby
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| Twisted, the mime of the floods, niggaz spell drama
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| One oh five point six llama
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| Cosmetic classical, slum is shield, milagro beanfield
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| Watch me inhale half of you, new attributes
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| Teletronics, dbx, one sixty x Compression with the a and sharp press
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| Extract bass in which the gooey dew drips, vanilla suckle
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| With jasmine bits, five hundred rap battin average
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| One taste the bowl and blow up magic, houdini escapes
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| From the fermenting hell halls of tragic
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| Speaking to the first of april’s, deep in the rap game
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| Erasial, excedrin head bredderns catch facials
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| Side orders, one telephone for take out
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| Stomp your man half to death rob him then we break it Get off on the? |
| clove? |
| exit, knees dirty, chick now
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| With low leverage, watch it how she lick the head of me Cause it’s law, order today, we pay dues
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| New tomorrow’s, rubik’s cube money in a tube
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| Deck the halls, crush salary dice that’s in? |
| hall
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| Hey y’all peppermint pattie’s, slum my peter paul
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| Wrangler, straight laid the track when it’s sag
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| With one banger, interlude loop caused me to hang up Ticklish, crunchberry niggaz at the flicks pissed off
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| Standin in the rain and can’t find they whips
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| 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! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cobra Clutch, artist - Ghostface Killah. Album song Wu-Tang Killa Bees: The Swarm, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп