| Yeah, yeah
|
| Sham’s nine times ultra
|
| Wu-Tang herbs two times great, you heard of me
|
| Nigga, L.A.D., six times ill
|
| Rest in peace O.D.B
|
| La the Dark, Sun large
|
| GZA, Ras Kass, yeah what’s up, Wu-Universal
|
| Legendary
|
| Now it’s the real beginning of the pages of Shams
|
| Spit that heat rock that make fiends make vapors of grams
|
| Sham’s is the greatest fan, rock big cables of sands
|
| Valleys and trunks, I got the mack ten
|
| We can hit the alley with iron and thumper
|
| Take it to the hands like the brand new Leonard
|
| Niggas going no mas, when the bullets go in him
|
| You dealing with a night stick toker
|
| The ice pick poker, trust you ain’t like this joker
|
| And the set, devoted to opening your neck
|
| With the tech, as you sit in a Lex'
|
| Your next move, is slipping, your last move is shitting
|
| As your body gets soft, the shotty went off
|
| Little soldiers, you’re out of position
|
| Guns go off, Shams is a Raiders fan
|
| A rhyming gallop reporter, columns are lost
|
| White five, black five with dollars to toss
|
| Twisted by the dark side of the force
|
| Black biscuit, by park side in a Porsche
|
| You’re off sides in the fort
|
| We are survivors of the war of good and evil
|
| I’m in the hood, in the hood with a Desert Eagle
|
| With my Brooklyn peoples, now feel it
|
| Darkman, my persona’s like Tony Montana
|
| How he used to sniff coke, how I puff marijuana
|
| Try, play me today, I’mma kill you mañana
|
| From, far with the K, or up close with the llama
|
| I’m like an African king in a castle in Guana
|
| Chest dripping with jewels, one hell of a rhymer
|
| Study lessons in Athena, building with an old timer
|
| So I, always been wise ever since a young minor
|
| Get CREAM by any means, follow Malcolm X theme
|
| So I’m often posted, in a rumor with that thing
|
| Got a limited support from the Sing-Sing regime
|
| I’m Hannibal Smith and they like the A-Team
|
| Keep my head on the swivel, when I serve a dope fiend
|
| Upgraded, to a digital, from a triple beam
|
| Fucking with me, you better be real as you can be
|
| La Trapacandi, a well known rhyme general
|
| Who say Ras Kass don’t spit fire, he a liar
|
| That’s like your favorite rap star claiming he gon' retire
|
| When you mention me, not about penitentiary
|
| Wins and rhyme skills, both twenty second century
|
| Ahead of my time, school niggas like Timbuktu
|
| Cause I’m original, like Black Falasha Jews
|
| Velours by BUFU: Buy Us, Fuck you
|
| Try us, fuck you
|
| You die y’all got gats but him buck too, nigga
|
| Sip the Grey Goose and ponder, then order room service
|
| In Hotel Rwanda, reminder to honor these street scholars
|
| Who ask why U.S. Defense is twenty percent of the tax dollar
|
| Bush gave 6.46 billion to Halliburton
|
| For troops support efforts in Iraq
|
| Meanwhile, the hood is hurting, please believe that
|
| The rape over, Chaney talking, twenty five dollars for a case of soda
|
| Draining tax payers, eighty five thousand dollar oil filters
|
| But won’t pay they soldiers, Halliburton workers make
|
| Fourteen thousand dollars a month, privates earn thirteen g’s a year
|
| Please who twenty-five extra, taking fire in combat
|
| Recruit all the niggas, that die from where I’m at
|
| 18 years old, talking kill, where Saddam at
|
| But can’t have a gat, to protect where my Mom’s at
|
| I love to crunk, so what, plus I’m gangsta enough
|
| To piss in Pimpin Ken’s, pimp cup, rack a gauge and pump it up
|
| Hot bitches still get fucked, niggas just want a forty and a blunt
|
| Yo, these youngsters they grow up on the block
|
| With the product in they socks and the fully loaded Glocks
|
| Too many die in vain, and it’s a crying shame
|
| The murders and the hustles, won’t stop as they shoot for the top
|
| Acquiring apparel, through growth and development
|
| On they most dangerous missions, excuses were irrelevant
|
| The brutality of war, never changes
|
| And the out of control desire to win, makes it dangerous
|
| Fire engulfed the set, they feel the threat, greater than
|
| What they ever had, experienced yet
|
| Indictments, sparked excitement, and the thrill to kill
|
| Suddenly they felt the need for a challenge in they field
|
| The great boundaries of both man and machine
|
| Can have one at the point, to murder all in between
|
| Yellow tape scene, dead teen, the mob was his idol
|
| Giving a grim new meaning to the neighborhood’s title, what’s up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Verses , by - La the Darkman. Song from the album Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп