Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Glide , by - U-God. Song from the album Golden Arms Redemption, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 04.10.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Wu
Song language: English
Glide |
| Yeah, yo, yo, Inspectah Deck track |
| Break ya back, yo |
| A message of a wreckage |
| 50 shell hot track leaking out the Lexus |
| Eyes hot, Cyclops, cyborg boulders |
| Call shop of horrors, Lyric just smoking in my holster |
| Whip and boil, ?lugotan? |
| hurricane the holler |
| Daily operation, bullet train tingle farther |
| 8 seconds a scar your style wild buccaneer |
| Round table revolvin' on ten musketeer |
| Think you, got all the riches |
| Think you poli with bitches |
| You could run the fuck opponent, gotten with the glitches |
| The swiftness, hit the spots that are vital |
| Shake the ground decent, like 3 sticks of dyno |
| My administration deceive the population |
| Start the next generation by artificial insemination |
| Contaminate stations, for music in the making |
| Concentration camps, Assassinate for industry domination |
| Abomination, The Competition and confrontation you mistaken |
| I’m a nuclear warhead bomb invasion |
| Extermination of the next man, when the Germans blazing |
| We burn this for occasions, regardless I see your expiration |
| Perspiration you sweatin' |
| A cassette deck eject in your selection for air time |
| Blow a hole through your brain so you can think with a clear mind |
| A redesign? |
| of how I rhyme, and slang crack in my spare time |
| Crime Time |
| We rollin' with the undisputed, rootin tootin |
| 21 gun salutin', new recruitin' |
| Wu-Tang, slang bang in unit |
| Put us in your cassette deck, yo, improvement |
| Smash and blast the shit, I’m doper than math |
| That makes you level through the devil |
| You never surpass |
| The stakes is hot, like bullet snatch pots |
| And hot twats |
| Fully operational hand held Glocks, mhm |
| The uncanny, vigilante panty man |
| Crook, took by the hook of the candy man |
| Look, now you caught up in the suction |
| Rap Tight and my appetite destruction |
| Today’s the day, the bomb gets dropped on America |
| Human civilization in concrete jungle concentration camps |
| Replacement amps blown, speaker abduction |
| The Mad weed seduction corruption |
| From the brain cells decreasing |
| Its sucker duck season, fuck treason |
| Blast if you trespass, bullet enters your mouth and exits your ass |
| Impregnate the math, then give birth to a newborn |
| Figure of speech drew form, with 8 arms |
| Napalms, collapses stages you perform on, dominate |
| Drama face, abominate, sling crack behind the black high gate |
| The nine fade the hearts of men |
| Slip the cartridge in |
| Off the hook like telemarketing sales condone over the phone |
| Danger zone |
| Bozzy Capone alone, in a terrordome Stalone |
| With a great cannon, bones cerebral swollen |
| Straight both ways scanning |
| All you roaches lay down I spray the brain damage |
| Bring the banners, the green gamma ray |
| Gain up the same data, Scatter |
| Then a dark part where D and you used to play all day |
| The ray sound stung you, you kung fu check the cleaner |
| From fire line I gun you for fun |
| Dial 9−1-1 |
| Someone tore down the tunnel son |
| 1−2 Check your fronts |
| Captain Crunch, munch on you for lunch |
| You punchbag drunk, bald headed monk |
| Top bunk, chunk your trunk full of junk |
| Buffer and bump stop humping me |
| Ruff a scum sucking muthafucka |
| Ducking my shit just luckily |
| Other emcees made a big mistake |
| Fronting on the mic that’s truly great |
| What? |
| How you want it fried or baked |
| I place in right through the heart of a snake |
| Scrape at papes, take what we can take |
| Til the day we die, meet the pearly gates |
| Golden Arms going strong, I’m holding weight |
| Cause |