Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Weary Eyes, artist - Wu-Syndicate.
Date of issue: 19.04.1999
Song language: English
Weary Eyes |
I spark an L to a sunset meditatin |
Ill thoughts got my heart racin, chest with a mason |
Same blocks, ATF rush spots cats bubble humbly |
I’m hungry, Killa Bee Trilogy triumphantly |
Hammer head, dart allignment, work consignment |
Keep your ears open for new assignments |
Ride with the livest, frontline rhyme thats |
Interchangeable |
Mastermind, blaze in the range, it’s unexplainable |
Against The Grain, crown prince of the purple rain |
No games dunn, runnin the same, bickin the lane |
Ice drain shoot the rest of the pain, I’m reckless |
Coressing the flame, addressing the strange |
It’s Wu-Tang |
Chorus: |
Close your weary eyes and drift away, It’s alright |
Close your weary eyes and drift away, It’s alright |
When I got the news, my heart dropped down to my dick |
Timin was fucked up, right around the time we’d all be rich |
New with tricks, we went through Wu-Syndicate, Wu ventelists |
Cop a mansion on these other land where war’s parentless |
Anyway, vision clear, Michaelangelo destined to blow |
And a trio with Myalan' and Joe |
I’m at your grave site, midnight ritual, candlelight |
Heard she set you up with spite, she cop the ninja your bike |
I’m having flashbacks of Henney, jetskis blasting semi’s together |
We possessed the chemistry, make history eventually |
The thought of goin to penitentiary |
Made his mom break down at the wake mentally |
Right now its chilly and cloudy days |
Now I’m chillin with Shaq in LA |
I make sure D, make a sake in princeway |
Yo its war states bein breeded through the streets of V. A |
Close your eyes mom your legacy will never fade away |
Drift away. |
Eh yo son your Jack ringin, «What up? |
Who this?» |
«Jakes just knocked your bitch», «Word, no shit» |
Now my first thoughts is the feds had my phone tapped |
Told her don’t talk in the Range with the bike rack |
Jakes might be up on the whip |
Oh she forgot to tuck the hero’n up under her tit |
What if she asked about the ice that I put on her wrist? |
I taught my chick Earth lessons, nah son she won’t snitch |
Remember times I went to war and she brought extra clips |
Jack sayin low cell, need to charge up the chip |
Hit me back at the lab, gotta handle this quick |
I roll with mob cats who bubble outlets |
Legacy live 500 years like Vinnie’s nest |
Evil scientist, now I manifest with golden flesh |
Felony paragraphs, dead on polygraph, vision a bloodpath |
Black guillotines, banded like King Luis the 16th |
Before you blink, Napoleon, lock to your wife and tie her man |
Executioner, poetic conspiracy of Lucifer |
Beef come for real, there’s no tellin what I do to ya |
Might wrap you in plastic, ship you off the Jupiter |
Boys, I roll with Wu-Syndicate sharpshooters |
Who smuggle coke in parachuters |
Politic in silence like J Edgar Hoover |
To leave to Switzerland, type maneuvers |
Through the eyes of an everyday, street veteran |
Chased for Presidents, throw up the hands, blood on my Timbs |
Modern lights got your frame bent |
Myalansky, fantasy, crash route, the certified member |
Ask permission before you kill 'em, you’re nameless |
UFO’s, domes, the strangest invasion |
The project block locked by pavement |
Nikki Barnes, Donna Her’on, courageous, the payment |
Many attempts but couldn’t save 'im |
Blood got my shirt stainin, fuck these pussy-ass rap cats |
Can’t hang with this shit, Wu-Syndicate, we livin this |
Fuck the judge, the president, never show no love for my residence |
My niggas deal embezzlement |
D’s and IV’s, unlimited CC’s, roll up your long sleeves |
We in it to win it, Wu-Syndicate snatch penants |
Label rap menace, real cats feel it, fuck with the merciless |
Stash mills, the pack impact, we back slap cats to windmills |
Fully loaded clips, crunch time, kings of VA |
Bustin twin nines, we global pollyin |
World renowned, thunder pound round |
Shells bounce off the Wally moccasins |
Chessboxin with a marksman, high states crossin |
Fuck the law man, it’s arson, straight up arson |
What? |
Flamin y’all niggas, fuck that |