Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wu-Flix, artist - DZK. Date of issue: 23.04.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Wu-Flix |
| Fat chinchilla jackets, massive scrilla |
| Ninja rap, guerrilla tactics, mad master killer |
| Clan tracksmith, drunk monkey, the bad ass (bastard) |
| Dispatching nasties on these wack, backpackin' rappers |
| The samurai tuckin' the blade |
| You’s gon' get your bitch back when I’m done fuckin' her face |
| And shoving a wang in her jaw, let it all (hang) |
| Orangutan slang, strange renaissance, Capdonna |
| Page cage fighter, Ghost Killah, Wu track force |
| Visit the village of craft, this is the rap lord |
| Bang on the repercussion drum, pump slum science |
| Rum diet, ten rapplications, one client, I am (drunk) |
| Slumped, I am, punch junk, rhyme flyin' bolts |
| So flyaniacal, fire floats at vile vultures |
| No style, so Idlewild, so profesh |
| Don’t flex on the kid, don’t step, aight? |
| How does one do that? |
| Hm? |
| How does one kill a man? |
| It’s one thing to dream about it |
| Very different when you have to do it with your own hand |
| This has probably been a long time comin' |
| Any small-time thug’ll spent a long time runnin' from this all-time great |
| Only forty plus a hunnid, but you couldn’t hold my weight |
| So fuck it, straight gunnin' from the old line state |
| That is Murdalyn, never heard of it? |
| Well, I preferred ya didn’t |
| But the burner’s sure to turn your shirt into a tourniquet |
| And you’ll be learnin' quick |
| I’m earnin' as earnest a livin' as any surgeon is with every word I spit |
| And every bird I flip, I’m raising the stakes, yeah |
| Literarilly, should be comparing me to Shakespeare |
| A little heresy, but something I wanna make clear |
| I’m just a lost soul at the crossroads of the eighth sphere |
| «The Devil’s gate’s near,» that’s what they all sayin' |
| And then they see my long grey beard and a 3 pronged blade |
| So on a off day, I might perform facial feng shui |
| Till your nostrils are facing the wrong way |
| This is Wu-Flix, knock your teeth out with a toothpick |
| I hear you spittin' that bullshit |
| I chop your mama arm off with a katana and stick dick to ya father |
| You won’t ever be the same, grasshopper |
| «I'll murder the motherfucker,» yeah, I know you would |
| There are many things the rest of us would do if we could |
| I do whatever it takes to keep you alive |
| I go outside, knowing that I’m gonna die |
| Standing in the corner, I got my Sticky Fingaz face on |
| Count to four, bum rush the door |
| Nigga tried to rush me, I bust three |
| Turn him to duck meat, the 187 was rusty |
| Motherfucker don’t touch me |
| Walk around, everybody love me |
| Benetton suits and gumbys |
| So if the boy wants to have sex, then let him have sex |
| When he turns eighteen, I’ll let him sleep with my ex, next |
| My iron fortress is protected by the eye of Horus |
| The vile sorcerer that rides atop of wild horses |
| Settle scores of vendettas, left your shelter scorched |
| Deltas force melt your paws with a welder’s torch |
| Never knelt before God, never felt remorse |
| Spinning propellers, left fellas short on my heliport |
| In the morgue cellar, fill a drawer with a headless corpse |
| My album’s fucked up, that shit’ll never sell in stores (No) |
| My consumer base is viewed as a mutant race |
| Humans that grew from the fumes of nuclear waste |
| If you get a taste of my music, you get erased |
| And interchange with an image of your livin' wraith |
| Drippin' with acidic hate, pistol whippin' little fake |
| Children when I’m spittin' written riddles in a fit of rage |
| I wanna murder motherfuckers with my vocal sound |
| And choke 'em with the smoke that get ejected from my open mouth |
| Damn it, this guy sure moves fast |
| You’re a famous fighter, you shouldn’t say that |
| Nara bakieru |
| Bakayarou! |
| Tetsuga! |
| Yoi, trap |