ANDRE NICKATINA lyrics - These R The Tales

Saw A Gangsta Cry

Original and similar lyrics
(This is like a wicked passion) The way some cashier get they cash Fuck around have a gun in yo face Tied up and they whoopin' yo ass Man most cats man they don't play cause they moms get high I can still recall the day I saw a gangsta cry Man under the hot sun Young cats they buck with hot guns fat ones Man if you sellin' this You better know the consequence shit Walk just like army ants Yeah man let me borrow that Please homeboy don't be no snitch You put this business before that fine bitch Here go a classic tale A motherfucker just got outta jail Slipped up on some major mail Then went back to jail on major bail yo Yo most cats man they don't play cause they moms get high I can still recall the day I saw a gangsta cry Don't be no perpetrator Fuck around and be on a respirator Going up to heaven on an escalator Cause they sent you to hell on an elevator yo You're right in front of the corner stores with the.45 slug Some might say it's unity but there ain't no love Crack a smile like a beer bottle Don't worry 'bout the bullet cause it feel hollow Keep your foot on the gas throttle These motherfuckers ain't no rolemodels Blow yo mind with an evil disguise Wickin' this nigga right in front of yo eyes Where he got shot that's where he lies Layin' there dead with open eyes Blow you over on a street corner It's all about that B-Soda Breakin' arms and shoulders cause this drama's thick as quotas They bust at you and you bust back They just like a whip you go snap back How they gunna fuck with you fuck that Kill them all so they don't come back Mind state Crime rate Hell waits for jail baits Man if you make a mistake don't even wait But mothafucka get up outa my face It's a dirty loss for a dirty game So mothafucka it's a dirty shame I saw a gangsta cry I saw a gangsta cry I saw a gangsta cry I saw a gangsta cry It was a trip when I first saw a gangsta cry Didn't know, didn't ask, didn't wonder why It was a trip when I first saw a gangsta cry Didn't know, didn't ask didn't wonder why Indestructable, fuck with a nigga Grow so slow, ten years seven digits Make a bill with Baxter a broadcasta A painy thang to fake homies laughter?

Channel 10

Capone-N-Noreaga/Noreaga/N.O.R.E. "The War Report"
Intro: (I'm feelin' this here) Yeah son feel it man word up son. You gotta just do it yo. (C.N.N.) Yo word up it's a different channel son word up on watch the channel son different plain now man. (It's all good) Word up baby all good in every hood. (Queensbridge) Word up you hood nawsayin'? (Iraq) Left rack and all adat yo my hood word up gotta rep together son word up for life son. (check) Word up son let them know though son I feel you man let 'em know son. Capone: It takes nothin' but a hot slug to fill a villian Crook I'm about to make a killin' So weed to escalate the feelin' I regulate the dealin' jealous niggas hate the feelin' I stack my safe appealin' jake on my trace I'm peelin' And what a Mecca had whole fuckin' nation kneelin' Embrace the wheel and hit a buck without crashin' fuck My drug passion got a nigga stashin' fast what One love to hill billys run forever out to Chile' Playin' the cuts nigga what can't stop the willy Cops harassin' niggas blastin' while the day' passin' Time for action cock the mac what a satisfaction Shoot laughin' slug caught up in the chest gaspin' Nigga blanked out chopped before he start rappin' Hook: Khadafi: Microchips in the celly the game don't stop (don't stop) Tappin' in your bank funds with the labtop (labtop) Wanna own a block before the ball drop (ball drop) Arab natiz puttin' hits on the cops (x2) Noreaga talking: Word up son fucked up son word up Trag. I know you know us both man but it took the penile for us to click youknowhatI'msayin'? (yeah y'all met up north) KnowhatI'msayin' we had to meet up north (know what's real about all this though that...) What real about it? (we were young we strive we trying to eat knowhatI'msayin'?) God degree (we got a lot of fake niggas out man) 7-3 and 12 jewels. Niggas ain't bustin' that heat man. Niggas just frontin' yo they ain't bustin' they heat they know who they is. (I'm tellin' my...) Know who they is. (yo word is born) Noreaga: C.N.N. network channel 10 it's on again Street niggas that' grown men Bold face gat in your face stay in your place Yo crime lace catch more beef then Scarface (x2) Court case illegal minds too late Back in '92 (you remember Juice son?) I buc tose and got live General Emanuel Cell block cold crop Go bagged up yeah by cream cop (FUCK THE WORLD) The way the world cold dissed me ? poppie locked for posse call up Khadafi Collect all from Arab natzi the fowl motney You were lat in jail gte what what what what Them new jacks they comin' through Scared to death of the jail stories that's true You cold weak live life on the street While locked up homoed with pink sheets (bitch nigga) Discrete and your cell shook to sleep I wild out no doubt till the day I'm out Me personally what I did three kid you weak Your station and P.A.C. Outro: Son fuck this jail shit so tell 'em about the streets son (echo)

Channel 10

Capone -N- Noreaga "The War Report"
Intro: (I'm feelin' this here) Yeah son feel it man word up son. You gotta just do it yo. (C.N.N.) Yo word up it's a different channel son word up on watch the channel son different plain now man. (It's all good) Word up baby all good in every hood. (Queensbridge) Word up you hood nawsayin'? (Iraq) Left rack and all adat yo my hood word up gotta rep together son word up for life son. (check) Word up son let them know though son I feel you man let 'em know son. Capone: It takes nothin' but a hot slug to fill a villian Crook I'm about to make a killin' So weed to escalate the feelin' I regulate the dealin' jealous niggas hate the feelin' I stack my safe appealin' jake on my trace I'm peelin' And what a Mecca had whole fuckin' nation kneelin' Embrace the wheel and hit a buck without crashin' fuck My drug passion got a nigga stashin' fast what One love to hill billys run forever out to Chile' Playin' the cuts nigga what can't stop the willy Cops harassin' niggas blastin' while the day' passin' Time for action cock the mac what a satisfaction Shoot laughin' slug caught up in the chest gaspin' Nigga blanked out chopped before he start rappin' Hook: Khadafi: Microchips in the celly the game don't stop (don't stop) Tappin' in your bank funds with the labtop (labtop) Wanna own a block before the ball drop (ball drop) Arab natiz puttin' hits on the cops (x2) Noreaga talking: Word up son fucked up son word up Trag. I know you know us both man but it took the penile for us to click youknowhatI'msayin'? (yeah y'all met up north) KnowhatI'msayin' we had to meet up north (know what's real about all this though that...) What real about it? (we were young we strive we trying to eat knowhatI'msayin'?) God degree (we got a lot of fake niggas out man) 7-3 and 12 jewels. Niggas ain't bustin' that heat man. Niggas just frontin' yo they ain't bustin' they heat they know who they is. (I'm tellin' my...) Know who they is. (yo word is born) Noreaga: C.N.N. network channel 10 it's on again Street niggas that' grown men Bold face gat in your face stay in your place Yo crime lace catch more beef then Scarface (x2) Court case illegal minds too late Back in '92 (you remember Juice son?) I buc tose and got live General Emanuel Cell block cold crop Go bagged up yeah by cream cop (FUCK THE WORLD) The way the world cold dissed me ? poppie locked for posse call up Khadafi Collect all from Arab natzi the fowl motney You were lat in jail gte what what what what Them new jacks they comin' through Scared to death of the jail stories that's true You cold weak live life on the street While locked up homoed with pink sheets (bitch nigga) Discrete and your cell shook to sleep I wild out no doubt till the day I'm out Me personally what I did three kid you weak Your station and P.A.C. Outro: Son fuck this jail shit so tell 'em about the streets son (echo)

Channel 10

NOREAGA "The War Report"
Intro: (I'm feelin' this here) Yeah son feel it man word up son. You gotta just do it yo. (C.N.N.) Yo word up it's a different channel son word up on watch the channel son different plain now man. (It's all good) Word up baby all good in every hood. (Queensbridge) Word up you hood nawsayin' (Iraq) Left rack and all adat yo my hood word up gotta rep together son word up for life son. (check) Word up son let them know though son I feel you man let 'em know son. Capone: It takes nothin' but a hot slug to fill a villian Crook I'm about to make a killin' So weed to escalate the feelin' I regulate the dealin' jealous niggas hate the feelin' I stack my safe appealin' jake on my trace I'm peelin' And what a Mecca had whole fuckin' nation kneelin' Embrace the wheel and hit a buck without crashin' fuck My drug passion got a nigga stashin' fast what One love to hill billys run forever out to Chile' Playin' the cuts nigga what can't stop the willy Cops harassin' niggas blastin' while the day' passin' Time for action cock the mac what a satisfaction Shoot laughin' slug caught up in the chest gaspin' Nigga blanked out chopped before he start rappin' Hook: Khadafi: Microchips in the celly the game don't stop (don't stop) Tappin' in your bank funds with the labtop (labtop) Wanna own a block before the ball drop (ball drop) Arab natiz puttin' hits on the cops (x2) Noreaga talking: Word up son fucked up son word up Trag. I know you know us both man but it took the penile for us to click youknowhatI'msayin' (yeah y'all met up north) KnowhatI'msayin' we had to meet up north (know what's real about all this though that...) What real about it (we were young we strive we trying to eat knowhatI'msayin') God degree (we got a lot of fake niggas out man) 7-3 and 12 jewels. Niggas ain't bustin' that heat man. Niggas just frontin' yo they ain't bustin' they heat they know who they is. (I'm tellin' my...) Know who they is. (yo word is born) Noreaga: C.N.N. network channel 10 it's on again Street niggas that' grown men Bold face gat in your face stay in your place Yo crime lace catch more beef then Scarface (x2) Court case illegal minds too late Back in '92 (you remember Juice son) I buc tose and got live General Emanuel Cell block cold crop Go bagged up yeah by cream cop (FUCK THE WORLD) The way the world cold dissed me poppie locked for posse call up Khadafi Collect all from Arab natzi the fowl motney You were lat in jail gte what what what what Them new jacks they comin' through Scared to death of the jail stories that's true You cold weak live life on the street While locked up homoed with pink sheets (bitch nigga) Discrete and your cell shook to sleep I wild out no doubt till the day I'm out Me personally what I did three kid you weak Your station and P.A.C. Outro: Son fuck this jail shit so tell 'em about the streets son (echo)

Rules

WU-TANG CLAN "Iron Flag"
[RZA] All you hoes, be cryin for these bitches All you niggaz, be cryin for these hoes [scratched samples] 'Both hands clusty' - Ghost, 'Pullin out gats' - Raekwon 'Double barreled' - Meth, 'Blew off the burner kinda dusty' - Ghost 'We back, don't test' - Raekwon, 'Bring it to em proper, potnah' - Meth 'Comin from the thirty-six chamber' - Meth 'Math, let the plate spin' - GZA, 'Many brothers y'all be sparkin' 'Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot' - Inspectah Deck 'If ya fuck with Wu, we gots ta fuck witchu' - Method Man [Ghostface Killah] Who the fuck knocked our buildings down Who the man behind the World Trade massacres, step up now Where the four planes at huh is you insane bitch Fly that shit over my hood and get blown to bits! No disrespect, that's where I rest my head I understand you gotta rest yours true, nigga my people's dead America, together we stand, divided we fall Mr. Bush sit down, I'm in charge of the war! [Inspectah Deck] Yes yes y'all, the I-N-S bless y'all Stop hearts like cholesterol, let's brawl Never fall, tear it down like a wreckin ball Role call where my niggaz that's one for all And all for one, we draw the guns on impulse Cash in the envelope, spend it on kinfolk Then smoke a ounce as we count mills Providin you pure ecstasy without pills [Chorus: Method Man] Y'all know the rules, we don't fuck with fools man How the fuck did we get so cool man Never ever disrespect my crew If ya fuck with Wu we gots ta fuck witchu [Masta Killa] Y'all dogs better guard ya grills, it's all real We live from (), it's the God I-Reelz Yo wonderful, spark the blillz Let me build with the people for the mills I'm rollin with the Rebel I-Ill from Killa Hill, peace to Brownsville Brothers that'll kill for the will of the righteous Twenty-five to lifers, true and livin snipers You wait like 'Sixth Sense' 'til hard to kill [StreetLife] How you livin StreetLife I'm surrounded by criminals Serial killers tote guns without the serial High-tech, street intellect, all digital Project original, sheisty individual New York's bravest, always supply you with the latest We hall of famers, and still hit you with the greatest Took a year hiatus, now you wanna hate us Thanks to all you haters for all the cream you made us [Chorus] [Raekwon the Chef] Sendin letters to (), my cousin in Wendy's on Viacom At home, it's worth money, I adorns Order drinks, all real niggaz order your minks yo We got the fitteds on, lookin all fink Daddy everybody get money from now on Payday flash Visas livin like, Easter e'ryday Don't fuck Benz, rather a 430 That shit that float through water, eyeball come up, drop birdies yo [Method Man] We can eat right, or we can clap these toys I'm with StreetLife, ain't never been a Backstreet Boy Who y'all kiddin Tryin to act like my shoe fittin Confused with ya head up yo' ass like who's shittin It's Hot Nixon, same team same position Battin average three-five-seven and still hittin Y'all still bitchin, still lame and still chicken I'm still here, one leg missin and still kickin Cause I'm haaaaaaaaaaaard! Hard like a criminal Love like a tennis shoe, throw slug to finish you It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth I can tell this motherfucker ain't Wu, look at his neck 'Comin from the thirty-six chamber' - Meth 'Bring it to em proper, potnah' - Meth - 'Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang' [Method Man] It's Wu-Tang, rushin yo' gang, crushin the game Pretty thugs, clutchin they chain, hand cuppin they thang Who get strange, gassed up playin with flames Let a nigga take off his shades, see what I'm sayin is.. [Chorus]

Hellz Wind Staff

WU-TANG CLAN "Wu-Tang Forever"
(conversation continued from the end of Duck Seazon) [ The Wu-Tang Clan will rise again There are many of us, working for the good of the Wu] Tang Die! *sounds of fighting are heard* Verse One: Street Life So get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind Staff While the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the news like Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lung His father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongue Another youth dead, before the age of twenty-one Left his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slums With a shot that go, for twisted metal for cash flow React slow nigga and get, P.L.O. By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brother who got slain last summer by a cocaine runner A new year is dawning, new crews is forming Rival gangs warring blood steadily pouring The streets are deep Son every day is like a rerun So I reach out and try to teach one But eighty-five percent uncivilized content No tolerance so a lifetime is spent behind a cage bent smoked out on a park bench Killer instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched *sounds of fighting* Verse Two: Ghostface Killah So yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuck Tell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truck To all you slow footed penguins, duckin from these hot rocks that's flamin, chocolate for all you rap Damian's Spraying cards ex-pionage, dodgeball square hard Strip bars, no bras, wet leotards and a mink in, next album blood on Seth Abram Keep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpen Discovery Channel, cats that book at Daniel Coke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboo high school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck out on the regular for robbin a good nigga house Rough cut raw doses, the unexplainable Hot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa *sounds of fighting* Verse Three: Inspectah Deck Ha ha ha ha, yo What you know about this, specialist armed dangerous Hit you close range with this madness Unique design shine like a deep dish The beat kick technique split all your weak shit Yes, the rhythm, the Rebel Alone in my level heat it up past the boiling point of metal Living legend, veteran known to set trend Lethal weapon, step through your section with the Force like Luke Skywalker Rhyme author, orchestrate mind torture Live performer, bit the mic sayanora Borderline to insane, I rain firewater Tape recorder, can't be saved by a court order I got my sword cross your throat you joke Verse Four: Method Man We on the run with the golden guns, get you none when it reach out and teach someone, blaze they buns Now I'm guilty by association Times of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practice commence when I throw these darts at these rappers Ricochet, hit the charts, bloody your matress Hold me down, Wu bloodkin, I'm goin in Shootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoction blend like a million All these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word up We can go platinum but then, still can't get no satisfaction Once again, back on the block crumb snatchin Blowin backs in cold Blunted non-assassin, time for action, Johnny Unidas Handle that like arthritis Still, hold a golden touch like King Midas *swords clash* Verse Five: RZA Drown in problems the Heineken's imported from Holland Gettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columns get trapped by drum tracks mac loud as gun claps Pen'll grab the death of a thousand dumb tacks The Wu Sensai fold, it beez the Wind Ninja scroll Soul edged blade controls your inner pole The thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree root I stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruits with Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it means when bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling ( Sometimes... ) Pushed through like George Bush Operation Whoops Shots get popped on the block cause them blood to gush From digital to analog, the Wu-Wear camoflogue The entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibar like herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadow Connect the Book of Shaolin like the brothers I know Now Rule Verse Six: Raekwon the Chef Stash the cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleama Lex graffiti name reamer, hold em we rollin askin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in Toledo Pussy that shit she passin off to me though We wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, Maxamill You could crash a meal, got you back steel scold em and fold em like the thousand dollar bills sit back eyein y'all niggaz out Fakes that delegate we spittin fire out Verb burgular, design the Wally shoe store reserve a jet status, guidin these vert up on my matress Watch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashion Yo, these hands is flooded and they mad quick Strong approach like magnets, custom wood crane name Stylin rich, RZA made the waves in one chain Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide like step on his Klondike, get your dart right We movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face broke Jury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y'all cats ( Sometimes... ) *sounds of fighting* May you rot in hell! Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!

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