Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Musketeers Of Pig Alley , by - Raekwon. Release date: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Musketeers Of Pig Alley |
| Crack that pineapple open |
| Vision of break faces, gettin' money lay in the boats |
| Got big rifles, play the hood, ride Benz Cycles |
| Y’all mens are psycho, killah hill 'ciples |
| More fly generics, money make moves, forget it |
| We got this locked since nineteen-seven |
| So many rods and weapons, ain’t no more reppins |
| Take the shit back, faggot, we hate that |
| Meet the real, we lock the real, me lock the steel |
| Pop off, pull out, drop them bills |
| I run with all real killas, all for realer |
| Nikes on, awesome gorillas |
| Want more then kill 'em, front war, reveal 'em |
| I want him stretched out, listen, he lost the buildin' |
| All fly gangstas, more bankers, hundred wit' us |
| We ex-dust niggas, don’t even touch my drink |
| Fuck around, get shanked, stabbed, shot and broke |
| Ya' yolked and he blast-es through you in the faint |
| All my niggas get paint, yo what’s my name? |
| Lexus diamond, ice water inc |
| Uh, yeah, once again in the motherfuckin' place |
| Fix yo' motherfuckin' face, nigga |
| Yeah, you know how we gets down |
| Me and this mixo, we so, we so tight |
| Lex diamond sound, and uh |
| I bees the high chief, Jamel Areif |
| Straight from East Medina |
| And uh yo yeah, yeah, huh |
| They started jammin' in the park, just after dark |
| Two turntables and their DJ scratchin' |
| Words seemed to have an attraction when they rhymin' |
| Hip hop caused the guns to start sparkin' |
| Temperature risin' |
| Drape a nigga up with the ratchet, less talkin' |
| Caught him on the 'nard, bomb like a G hard |
| Explosion rocks the promenade, I’m God |
| And he show and provin', knowledge how he movin' |
| Smift as the wisdom, move from my gate in a drunken state |
| I wrote this degree, adjust ya eyes in the light so you could see |
| Never fall victim, dictate the fate leave the bake for the snake |
| If he take than I take his head without question |
| In the one to fourteen check the justice lesson, now uh |
| Uh it’s the pineapple daquiri fuckin' up ya mindstate |
| Ya heard? |
| Spread the motherfuckin' word, yo |
| I’m from where it’s real, niggas peal ya' orange |
| We want enough bricks that we could build apartments |
| I, general in the field of marksmen |
| The bad boys wit' me ain’t Will or Martin |
| Feel what I’m droppin', I spit the ill doctrine |
| Spot him deep in the killah hill poppin' |
| Two feet dug in the dirt, up in the skirt |
| Spectator on the sideline lovin' the work |
| And my team ain’t ya' average, cream we handle it |
| Fiends seekin' packages, beans and banana clips |
| Festo, if you wit' me, let’s go, the nymphos love me, X O, X O |
| Boy listen hard, think twice before you get involved |
| We hold the weight like cons in the prison yard |
| They call the riot squad, we live and in charge |
| Y’all non-believers get reminded with scars |
| It’s the pineapple, rebel I natural |
| Fine wine hundred proof, spittin' mine at you, nigga |