Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wyld In Da Club, artist - Raekwon. Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Wyld In Da Club |
| Don’t take it per-son-al. |
| it’s only mu-sic |
| Holla at me. |
| yo! |
| Yo! |
| Ice Water! |
| Yo. |
| yo |
| Try me, P.C.'ll put a clip in a nigga |
| Fuck a hole, my bullets’ll dig a ditch in a nigga |
| Listen, I’ve been reppin', only pack big weapons |
| One shot to the stomach, you missin' ya midsection |
| I’m off the wall, dog, I could off ya balls |
| Stick his ass to the rooftop, toss 'em off |
| Hit the Ave with the rooftop off the porch |
| I get money cuz it costs to floss, nigga you feelin' me? |
| And if not then fuck what you gotta deal with me |
| I’ve only been here for a minute but haters wanna get rid of me |
| P.C. |
| creep with at least three heats |
| And a shotgun stashed underneath the backseats |
| Niggas actin' like you don’t feel a draft |
| You seen ya man? |
| Tell him I’ma kill his ass |
| And I don’t, wanna talk I want a mill in cash |
| I come through 'tards shittin', lookin' ill in the past |
| Cuz it’s the, Ice Water, don’t get it confused |
| And one false move’ll cause me to spit at you dudes |
| It’s Stumic, motherfucker and I’m pickin' ya food |
| And ain’t no one out you know that my niggas’ll do you |
| Let’s spit on 'em, rush these niggas |
| And crush several fuckin', will leave a dent out ya liver |
| Only kid in the hood with a mustard ninja |
| Heard you broke down good, well I fucked ya sister |
| Eh yo we Wyld in Da Club, style in the club |
| This is for my niggas gettin' down in the club |
| At the bar throwin' down rounds in the club |
| Talk slick and get the four pound in ya mug |
| Yo I keep my gun on me, what the fuck y’all want from me? |
| Y’all touch my property somebody gon' die, uh-huh |
| This ain’t no joke, it’s for real |
| My niggas they totin' they steel |
| All it takes a phone call and they ready to ride |
| Get ready to die |
| Eh yo the cards are dealt, the words are spoken |
| Nigga, welcome to the Hell, the gates is open (uh-huh) |
| Gatekeeper, first degree murder through the speaker |
| Who deep enough to flow with the reaper? |
| Stuck in the middle, I spit a little riddle |
| Leavin' niggas crippled, my niggas ball 'em like Kerry Kittles |
| You niggas makin' it hard, it’s really kinda simple |
| If a nigga gotta pull it out I’m puttin' it in ya temple |
| Official I do this, rude maneuver |
| I use the Rugers to keep the bullets movin' through ya |
| Weak anatomy, fuck the small talk and flattery |
| Ya power is weak, to beef you need much more batteries |
| Keep it genetic, or dead it, Ice Water Inc. we said it |
| Whoever so-called did it or said it, promote it and spread it |
| Fake it or front it, get ambushed and confronted |
| With slugs in ya head, back, chest and stomach |
| Niggas don’t want it or ask for it, so we give it to 'em |
| Dead in the club and let them things spit and rip through 'em dead in the club |
| Is you gon' fuck around and be the nigga dead in the club? |
| (Yeah? Uh-huh.) |
| Egyptian look, gazelles on, L’s lit, this how it’s goin' down |
| Ski mask, Chanel shit, move like a terrorist click |
| Nineteen eighties babies, worldwide, ya girl on our dick |
| All you know is Rae look good, he hood |
| Envision the flips, I make money like them niggas who take money |
| Fresh out the can, Duran look, Astro van |
| The ill Castro, rap Son of Sam |
| More Rugers, more bow and arrows |
| Still no losers, forty five dollars ahead |
| Go at niggas shootin' lyrical leads |
| Stop absorbin, break shit, knock that gay shit out ya head |