| Wait, hold up, chill, what’s that son?
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| Damn. |
| nigga got fucked, shit, huh?!
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| By his back, watch nigga run
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| Seven the center of your eight point sun
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| Hold tight grip on the +God-U.Now+ you best be careful!
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| Can’t dodge two (??) aimed at your domepiece
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| +Father-U-C-King+ police!
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| Somethin in the slum went rum-pum-pum-pum
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| Somethin in the slum went rum-pum-pum-pum
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| Yo Rae it’s been a long time son since we bust
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| Gunclap +Glaciers+, ran the world and snatched paper
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| Return to the 36th Chamber
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| Proceed with caution as you enter
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| We have an A.P.B., on an MC Killer
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| Looks like the work of a Masta!
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| Yo somethin in the street went, BANG BANG
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| Makin it hard for you to do your THANG THANG
|
| Somethin in the street went, BANG BANG.
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| Up in the boss game wildin, money for grabs
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| I ain’t fuckin with crabs, out of state copped two labs
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| Hopped two cabs, back on the Ave.
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| Stab you with the vocab, catch me at the big dough rehab
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| Tryin to re-up, keep my feet up Snake niggaz in the cut, hold the product
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| Time is up, no luck, heat start to bust
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| Niggaz you can’t trust, dealin with lust
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| Seen him at the ballgames with James
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| Somethin in the street went, BANG BANG
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| Makin it hard for you to do your THANG THANG
|
| Somethin in the street went, BANG BANG
|
| Makin it hard for you to do your THANG THANG
|
| Somethin in the hole went
|
| The boxcutter went
|
| Somethin in the hole went
|
| The boxcutter went
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| These are the bones, bones from the grave of Houdini
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| G-Deini, razoni noodles sprinkled on your embry'
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| Climb like the deficit, profits, death threats
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| to Israel slid through Bethlehem bong on one wheel
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| Syringes, rubber bands, needles, the 60's
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| Granddaddy Caddy was coppin 6 G’s
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| Begosh all that Oshkosh jumpers
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| Pink Champelle, brown paper bags, wall to wall bumpers
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| These (??) camera guys, cause, turn your eyes
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| Sweat on the hammer fly, ways, of the Samurai
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| Newsflash bulletin, Gods on the prowl
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| We full again, ruff men scuff Timbs
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| Sonic bionic lens, RZA console
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| Is it Bush or the Dole, front row of the superbowl
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| Black gold in my soul, on a hoe stroll
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| Don’t go boy you on parole you don’t know?
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| Someone in the back went, CLACK CLACK
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| Money is stacked, now bust your gun, CLACK CLACK
|
| Someone in the back went, CLACK CLACK
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| Money is stacked, now bust your gun, CLACK CLACK
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| Made 'em throw they hands up, but then lay flat
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| Rat pack eat up, the average alley cat
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| Prepare for the impact when we contact
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| Known to drop backs that crack your hard hat
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| Must I show and prove, trust I, bust I Make your head spin like chrome 20's on the buggy-I Benz
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| Who contends, Wu like the Superfriends
|
| Who’s your rhymin hero? |
| Wu-Tang rules again
|
| Someone in the back went, CLACK CLACK
|
| Money is stacked, now bust your gun, CLACK CLACK
|
| Someone in the back went, CLACK CLACK
|
| Money is stacked, now bust your gun, CLACK CLACK
|
| Yo somethin in the street went, BANG BANG
|
| Makin it hard for you to do your THANG THANG
|
| Somethin in the street went, BANG BANG.
|
| Somethin in the hole went
|
| The boxcutter went
|
| Somethin in the hole went
|
| The boxcutter went
|
| Somethin in the slum went rum-pum-pum-pum
|
| Somethin in the slum went rum-pum-pum-pum |