Получи текст песни Wu-Tang Clan f Redman - Redbullна свой мобильный!
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[Redman] RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on Ring the bell so it`s time to eat Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats Bomb isdide the palm Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass ironed on The front with my pump built like the Klumps To carry it I take the spare out the trunk I stay hungry, I ain`t worked for days That`s why you see the pump when the curtains raise Blast! Don`t panic Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed? Hell nah! I won`t tell you son If I find a wack ID I sell you one Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah My lecture`s like Hannibal Lector`s Where`s the ketchup? Don`t speak on it, shut ya trap I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks Ah woo, Doc in my own zone You say you got the rapgames sewn, but it`s sewn wrong I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softee truck Then pull a mac out a box of snow cones Yeah, ya little fucks Gimme ya fucking money!
*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*
[Method Man] Uhuh, check it I`m hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong? Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn Pro`s and con`s, megabomb`s and so-on`s By arid actions try MC`s to get their roll on First issue got issues What is hip-hop to Hot Nickles? It`s like Funk Doc to snot tissues, word Look at my hand and get the third Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear Now that`s what I call harcore, let`s act fool Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool I been shitty, I`m from the veils of the city And just because my outfit match don`t make me pretty Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese Ain`t no rules to the game, if it is we aint playin In your business like EPMD, "So What Cha Sayin`" You co-designin that bullshit yo man tryin Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!! Slugs flyin
*Shout-outs from Raekwon, Ghostface and Inspectah Deck*
[Inspectah Deck] Yo, ya Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen Fo` wheel machines like ya wits scream Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant We roll longer than dice in a casino Cee-lo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0 Behind the tinted windows I lay low On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0 But now I get wild similar to Ol` Dirty On third time fellon just hit with over 30 No worries, style have em so thirsty First degree heats are quittin on me Cold turkey, no mercy I bring the pain of a hundred migraines But a thousand shoutin my name that`s why I came But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst My surround sound pound ya ear like Jevon Kearse I flex muscle outside I find a next hustle Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle Even the best buckle win I take it to the exteme It gets ugly, but it`s what a nigga do to get cream This life
*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*
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