Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The End , by - Ras Kass. Song from the album Wu-Chronicles, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 22.03.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Wu-Tang
Song language: English
The End |
| My acoustic pugilistic linguistic, rap fabric |
| Is a mixture of Arabic, plug 'em in |
| Plug 'em in |
| Plug 'em in, plug 'em in |
| Come to spread it |
| The world exclusive |
| Check it |
| From the underground producers |
| Turn your face stone like Medusa |
| Slap dick on a wicked bitch |
| Or righteous ones weaken sons |
| Those who burn hurt turn nuns |
| I rekindle the flame |
| With the name Bobby |
| Make it a hobby |
| Smoke the honey dip got my throat groggy |
| You doo-doo brain dirtbag derelict dumbfuck |
| What the fuck is wrong with you dickhead? |
| Numb-nuts |
| Just because you made a song or two |
| What’s the balance due on your royalties? |
| Record companies spoil me |
| As the wiz hot oil me |
| Fuck that savage back up |
| Wu-Tang step inside the club |
| Niggas might act up |
| One potato |
| Smack you like the crossfader |
| Rap data, go back to pissy elevators |
| Escape the projects, livin' inside the skyscraper |
| Fuck that I’m takin' back the forty acres |
| With the cream of nature |
| (Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, Bobby) |
| (Huh) |
| Yo, my Eve called 1-Adam-12, I got arrested |
| First she protested |
| But on the seventh day I rested (son I always had the power!) |
| Before the Midori Sour with red cherries |
| Hereditary trait, seeking salvation like the Cranberries |
| Wrote Murder with Angela Lansbury often |
| Til' my biological clock stops and my casket falls |
| Each cell ticks like Boston basketball |
| C-arson was askin' y’all |
| Is Ras Kass the last to fall victim for wearin' no mask at all? |
| No gimmicks, just me bein' me |
| But you ain’t bendin' or offendin' me |
| 'Cause anyways Hennessy used to be a better friend to me |
| But I had to stop drinkin' so many pints (Why?) |
| 'Cuz the tendency to forget |
| It ain’t baseball, America’s favorite national pastime is white |
| Supremacy |
| Never seen a nigga granted clemency |
| My metaphors is meta-five |
| My styles go up in your raw dog little boy |
| You get fucked, like pedophiles |
| When it’s all said and done I’mma retire to an island in the Caymans |
| Enslavin' caucasians livin' off your mama’s life savings |
| I take it all in stride |
| Dennis Rodman’s laced to the side |
| This nigga glide, like Clyde |
| My hands was tied |
| Silent cries screamed genocide |
| When two-thirds of the planet died in the end |
| The end justifies the means |
| The end is power |
| (Power) Power corrupts -- absolute power corrupts absolutely |
| Young black man, let us begin (2X) |