Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pearl Harbor, artist - Wu-Tang Clan. Date of issue: 12.10.2017
Song language: English
Pearl Harbor |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel |
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees |
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah) |
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word) |
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa) |
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies |
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me |
| Yo, you ever been face-fucked with a four-fifth? |
| Sweating, facial expression is stressing like ‘oh shit' |
| That’s the shit that I don’t like |
| Non-rappin' rappers in the booth and they don’t write |
| Fuckin' stupid ass rappers |
| Acting out of their character, I shoot and stab rappers |
| P! |
| What it do, nigga? |
| I fucks with Wu-Tang and a couple of new niggas |
| I don’t weirdo with queer clothes |
| I share flows, when it enter your earhole |
| Shit, it’s a thing of pure beauty |
| Everything that’s spittin' is written by yours truly |
| Nigga, when Sean write hard |
| Niggas do anything for it like Klondike Bars |
| Pa, I’m the greatest of all-time |
| How should we forget the latest with Alzheim’s? |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel |
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees |
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah) |
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word) |
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa) |
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies |
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me |
| Since, birth, I’ve been a fast learner, ask my earth |
| That’s my mama, kept a burner in her purse |
| This murder in the first |
| Whatcha thought, that was the gift? |
| That’s the curse |
| I put everythang on it, that’s ‘The works' |
| I’m in it for the perks |
| ‘Cause it’s not about the image, it’s the thirst |
| And how they kill your image with a verse |
| A hater get it worse |
| I’m telling every member of your church |
| They gon' have to put your image on a shirt |
| ‘Til I finish my dessert, nobody eatin' |
| That’s everybody, I mean anybody |
| I might leave somebody bleedin' |
| Or watch me catch a homi', even hit you in the lobby |
| Shotty pop ya like a molly, probably leave you hardly breathin' |
| Don’t try to Blaze with Johnny even if you got an army |
| Dirty money in the laundry, don’t ask why, I got my reasons |
| I puff that Bob Marley, might hit you with the Tommy |
| You can catch me in the party near the speaker not speakin' |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel |
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees |
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah) |
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word) |
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa) |
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies |
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me |
| Pass any test of litmus, workout at 24-Hour Fitness |
| On the weekend, I’m sipping Belvedere with that citrus |
| My dogs is vicious, exotic nympho broad for my mistress |
| Life is good, live every day like it is Christmas |
| Happy New Year—I do what the fuck I wanna do here, nigga |
| Splash the handcrafted Gucci from the shirt to the shoe wear |
| I crush the rings out, wife-beater tee with no wings out |
| I got stamina, I’ll long-dick a bird ‘til she sings out |
| La-la-la-la, Bobby Dig convert Lady Gaga |
| Back to heterosexual, I’m classic like Impala |
| Plus, I’m federal, when it comes to making dollars |
| Like Jiggaman, nigga, if you hear me, fuckin' holla |
| Power rings like the Green Lantern, last seen in a mean Phantom |
| In the valley of Ohio, outside the town of Canton |
| Or the grotty body projects in the Killa Hills of Staten |
| Saw a redbone in my shower just looking like Paula Patton |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel |
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees |
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah) |
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word) |
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa) |
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies |
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel |
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees |
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology |
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy |
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa) |
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies |
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me |
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |