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WU-TANG CLAN lyrics - Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)


Original and similar lyrics
[Intro: Raekwon the Chef, Method Man] What that nigga want God Word up, look out for the cops (Wu-Tang five finger shit) (Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby Word up, two for fives them niggaz got garbage down the way, word up KnowhatI'msayin (Cash Rules Everything Around Me C.R.E.A.M. get...) Yeah, check this ol fly shit out Word up (Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint (C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go (dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this shit, yo! [Verse One: Raekwon the Chef] I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side Staying alive was no jive At second hands, moms bounced on old men So then we moved to Shaolin land A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one And that one, pullin out gats for fun But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend Started smokin woolies at sixteen And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes Making my way on fire escapes No question I would speed, for cracks and weed The combination made my eyes bleed No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all Sticking up white boys in ball courts My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater Times is ruff and tuff like leather Figured out I went the wrong route So I got with a sick ass click and went all out Catchin keys from across seas Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine Ch-chick-POW! Move from the gate now [Chorus: Method Man] Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me C.R.E.A.M. Get the money Dollar, dollar bill y'all [Verse Two: Inspector Deck] It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival I peep at the shape of the streets And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M. Which failed; I went to jail at the age of 15 A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much Trying to get a clutch at what I could not... could not... The court played me short, now I face incarceration Pacin -- going up state's my destination Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff But as the world turns I learned life is hell Living in the world no different from a cell Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base Smokin bones in the staircase Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth Who explained working hard may help you maintain to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks and stray shots, all on the block that stays hot Leave it up to me while I be living proof To kick the truth to the young black youth But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted That what That life is hectic [Outro:] [Chorus -- 4X] Niggas gots to do what they gotta do, to get a bill YaknowhatI'msayin Cuz we can't just get by no more Word up, we gotta get over, straight up and down [Chorus -- 3X] Cash Rules Everything Around Me C.R.E.A.M. get the money Dolla dolla bill y'aauhhhaaaauhhhhahhhauhhhhll, YEAH

Creepin' On Ah Come Up

BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY "Creepin' On Ah Come Up"
Devilish Eazy-E Voice Right about now, Thugs~N~Harmony is on a come up, so to all you bustas out there, beware. Bizzy Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves. [*4] Krayzie Woke up this morning with the thought of robbin' a bank to get rich. Ain't ate in days so it ain't no thang to click click, bitch, gimme your shit. Fresh out the pen, and I'm low on ends, fuck calm, I tried to stay thug. Got flowin' skills, but nigga, they bitches, now I just can't buy my bud. With my steel, grabbed the 44 Mag' plus a sack, and I snag my leather rag. Can't reveal when I glide with the moneybag, ride to the hide', count my flags. I be livin' on the darkside, and I can't escape, some say it's a phase. If it is, only way I'm gonna survive is if I play with my gauge. It's a raid. Put your face to pave. If you try to play brave, you'll get slayed. Pull down them shades, empty your pockets, watches, jewels, and you'll be safe. I snatched the clerk up by her neck, put the gun in her mouth and said, Bitch, you better move quick back to the safe, if you wanna be killed try some stupid shit. And pushin' that panic switch will get you nowhere but hell. Trail to the back with the money in the sack, l ocked 'em all in the vault, time to bail. Well, tickets I'm out the door, hopped in the smug, and I break fast. Get to my pad, sit back and laugh, loc'd out as I flip through my cash. At last, nigga made good, and I got away smooth. Now, I'm straight. Covered my tracks, only description is that nigga with that leather face, fool. I gotta get mine, and if you stall, then I'm gunnin'. Just work your job, get paid. I'll rob ya. See, a nigga creep on ah come up. Bizzy Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves. [*4] Layzie See, I'm sittin' in my room, and a nigga feelin' down, steady thinkin' about how to get paid. Gotta gauge at my waist that be spellin' out murder that'll get a nigga locked the cage. Lay my head to bed, start to thinkin' hard, money is the cause. What can I do me for? Need to hit a lick, not a bullshit, but a real lick, like robbin' a jewelry store. Select which one will I raid. Got be headin' downtown, 'cause tonight's the night. Dressed in my black, wearin' makeup on my face so a nigga can't be seen in the spotlight. Stole two cars, and I parked one north, parked one east for the smooth switch. When a nigga bail, how the fuck he gonna tell if a nigga don't dwell in the same shit? Climb to the roof, and I'm peepin' out the scene, and there's no one I can spot. So I get my ass down, walked around to the window, and I broke the bitch out with a rock. Now I jump my ass in. Start to fillin' up the bag, and a nigga comin' up on these diamonds. Grabbed a couple herring bones, and some rings, and some ropes, still thinkin' how them diamonds was shining. Went to the cash register, broke the bitch open, grabbed all the money they had. And a nigga gettin' goin' gone to Bone, yeah, got to let my niggas check out my bag. And I got away smooth, 'cause I had the shit planned, and ain't no bullshit get brung up. That's what I gotta do if I wanna get paid, 'cause a nigga be creepin' on ah come up. Bizzy Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves. [*4] Downin' Jamacian spliffs, little nigga Ripsta on this lick and bang bang. Nigga that's the clique on my brain. Yet another victim, insane. Feel the murderous nerveâ€'this twelve shot pump, and I gotta bigger gat to back me. Peelin' in my smug, thug, hoody, black skully, black khakis. Creepin' in my smug, so reapin', peek into the window, let me cock this. Nigga must've been meant to be jacked, 'cause here comes me hostage. Up outta the door, with a pump to her temple, should've seen her tremble. Push any alarms, and I drop them bombs on moms. It's just that simple. I took my ganjas and fried 'em. Don't gimme no hassle, bitch! 'Cause I've been scopin' for weeks, and I know y'all got some shit. Clack back me gun, hollow point mixed with dum-dum kickin'. Ladies and babies scream onto the floor. Shut up and listen! It's a jack move, fools. Give me the jewels, the dope, the weed, the cheese, and answer me why and you hoes is cryin', 'cause bitches are dyin'? Blood'n clot, get up! You dead! : What one of them ni ggas said. Buckshot up into them dreads, and I love when I hear them pump red. One that callin' me bluff, I stuffed him with the quickness. See, made out with a smooth thirty G's. So all bodies must bleed, I need no witness. So with-a-me slug, Mo Thug jumped into him smug. Rolled the blunt up, good stuff reefer, hitted the Bone to give up love to me thugs. 'Cause I done made it clean as fuck, and I flees the scene with a buck buck, 'cause a nigga be creepin' on ah come up. Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves. [*8]

Grab The Gauge

THREE 6 MAFIA "Vol. 3 - Kings Of Memphis"
[Hook: (4x)] Grab my guage and then erase Grab my guage and then erase Ride up on the street And put some niggas in the front page [Verse 1: Gangsta Boo] Naughty naughty motherfuckers get the feelin' ah this shit This shit so funky comes way under nigga grounds are Triple 6 I'm smokin' out, I'm livin' large, I keep you hatas out my face Yo life is over motherfucka, when I grab ahold that guage My niggas from the Three 6 click they keep me hooked up on that game I'm chargin' niggas daily maybe, lady, is out to get paid You hoes can't fuck wit me I'm flowin', showin', hoes I ain't no hata Comin' strictly from the South-side gettin' greater later Everybody wanna ride for he say she say they say next You suckas need to grow up out that kiddy shit Quit fakin' just cause ah Three, Six, Mafia Coming nine-six, to two G bitch Misses lady gangsta on that weed, chicken rib shit Just to let you know my partner hoe come on the scenery Scenery, filled wid red dots, infra red beams Now where you gon' go You can't hide your life is over kid, It's time for the killin' Cause you have fucked up wid the wrong ass bitch [Hook 4x] [Verse 2: DJ Paul & Juicy J] [DJ Paul] Man this nigga kill me tellin' these people that he's about to go nationwide When he gotta drop his tapes of his self Plus he gotta call Kim, to get a ride [Juicy J] I saw the motherfucka standin' out in front ah Best talkin' about, bout my tape The nigga talk about the hard shit on that tape, Knowin' he sweet as cake [DJ Paul] The type ah nigga to tell these hoes that's he about to blow the fuck up The only blowin' up bitch you doin' Is when I stick the grenade in your butt [Juicy J] He say he smokin' so many blunts I can't tell, ooh, he's a liar I saw you for real, Hit that ill shit, You female buyer [DJ Paul] Juice man I know what you sayin' These hoes be killin' me ever so softly, But little bit a bitch boy know I be sellin' his first cassette or tape offa me [Juicy J] Don't forget about the dope, You enraged, after you got that page, From a doctor from the health department Tellin' you you are gettin' fatal wid AIDS [DJ Paul] This hoe boy holdin' card Was a mad bit than he bought for the two pon it Then he got fucked signed his contract You bitch boy you's a fuckin' dummy [Juicy J] Lookin' tryna deal wid big time cars, thieves, put 'em on dem CDs Young nigga you'll never sell more than the Three 6, bitch please [Hook (4x)] [Verse 3: Lord Infamous & Koopsta] Infamous is comin' strapped like an Italian Arabic I reckon I wreckin' ya South American Killa guerilla Colombian Muslim or some, loop Maniac, comin' to rip your damn head of your neck put your heart in the back and I spit on yo ashes and straight to the head for the chief and the blunt of the Indicut down in my stash, I reside in the insane asylum the bodies I pound 'em on Infamous Island where there is no smilin' the niggas buckwild and the weapons are silenced there's nothing combine us, Military barbarian buck 'em and bury 'em fuck wid the scarier, insanitarium, popper and carry 'em, There's no merry love, only murder blood, Till I take something worst out ah all ah these hollow points burst and disperse going through flesh and bone through the back of your shirt you be burnt up and buried in dirt that'll work, The Scarecrow be smokin' these niggas for shit they can't get wid these bitches they'll never compare, I'm comin' from the land of Triple 6 niggas still sufferin' every day that I swear [Koopsta Knicca] I see them fucking pressin' on they brother man, It happens everyday don't make me grab the guage, Dangerously I play I best to kill wid guage And put ya body in the back of that grey Chevrolet [Hook ('til fade)]

Too Late

Brand Nubian "Foundation"
Intro/Chorus: Shelene Too late, too late baby, bye-bye I'll be there tonight You'll get left behind Now's my time to shine Verse One: Grand Puba Now I got the best birthday present when my ass born It was my mama, old dad plant the seed like a farmer Life was kind of hard livin in hell's backyard Didin't have a job, honey fronted on the GOD Shorty racing, only hollering at cats who be lacin She had some shit with her, she was caught up in the glitter Brother come see me when you get five digits bigger Oh that's the way you tryin to doo-doo on a nigga She likes the lavish, no time for a brother livin average Play the knees for the cheese like a savage Now she lost and turned out, rotten teeth in her mouth cos she ran the wrong route Shorty 'member me, now I'm seven digits bigger Platinum artist status, mad cheese from Hilfiger Now ya feelin me because you're smoked out and high but too late baby, bye-bye Chorus Verse Two: Lord Jamar I wish you could have been there when I had my first fight The other kid said he was gonna get his father I didn't bother to respond cos I knew that you was gone Forced to carry on and teach myself right from wrong As far back as I can remember you was never around In September it was back to school The eldest member of my family so I packed the tool It made a nigga feel manly when I smacked a fool with it, could've schooled me on pussy before I hit it Or took me to a park with a ball and said Hit it But we was all left in the dark, accepting the parts of you we was able to get, affectin my heart Nowadays you expecting to start, anew when I lived my whole life apart from you Too late you better check the due date See there's no explanation for the expiration Chorus Bridge: Sherene It's too late, bye-bye Oh bye-bye-bye-bye-bye-byeeee, yeah It's too late, bye-bye, oh babe Bye-bye-bye-bye-byeeee-bye-bye Bye-bye-bye-bye-byeeeee Verse Three: Sadat X Niggas disrespect my crib droppin ashes on the floor Another half of beer I'm findin behind the chair Let you meal like you wish but you can't even wash a dish but you love to eat and rest them stink ass feet And blow up my telephone line like you was home Seen a nigga make five quick calls to the dome Ride around all day, 'Dro-ed or hash I ain't never heard once Can I help you with gas I ain't never heard X, can I buy you a meal But if we going downtown niggas is ready to wheel Now if you broke you broke, you got five dollars, give me one Cos most likely I'll give it back before the day is done If I'm spendin and bending, you should do it pendin That day when you break out and finally get your cake But I don't let that stress me cos life is but a test, B And every waken day, I'ma stay okay Chorus to fade

Doing Dumb Shit

ICE CUBE "Death Certificate"
When I was young I used to hang with the seventh graders Little bad motherfucker playing Space Invaders Fucking with the girls in the fourth grade Either feeling on they butts or pulling on they braids Walking with the schoolhouse bully By doing that, I had a lot of pull, G Cheating on tests, making a mess Cussing like a sailor at recess It must a been a half moon Cause you'll catch me running out the little girls' bathroom Chewing on Good and Plenties Got my gamble on at lunch pitching pennies Yo I was living like the class clown Pulling all the hokes, making all the jokes man When you young it's hard to see That it's wrong throwing rocks at the RTD Popping out your window with a BB gun Better yet knocking on your door and run Playing hide-and-go-get-it for a little stank Even though I was still shooting blanks As soon as the dark hit I was stealing candy out the corner market Until I got my ass whipped Cause I was ten years old, doing dumb shit Thirteen, that's how old I was When my jimmy started getting a little peach fuzz And I was looking at any butt and ass Me and my homies started cutting class Going up to the high school Looking for any bitch I could lie to Tell em I was older than I really was Smoked my first joint and got really buzzed That's what a mack's made of But when I got my first piece of pussy I fell in love Hard as a rock the long way And then I put the rubber on the wrong way But I still gotta have it Overexcited and fucking like a jackrabbit Goddamn I was hot A virgin but I still knew how to lay pipe Even though the hoe worked me I still knocked the boots from here to Albuquerque Then the shit got strange money I started shaking and jimmy felt funny Then the nut came gushing I jumped up got dressed and start pushing Cause I thought the bitch broke my dick Cause I was still young doing dumb shit At 17 got my first Volkswagon And mastered the life-long art of dragging To the women in college Hung out with the OG's and got some street knowledge Breaking in cars and all that Hitting punk fools with a baseball bat Fucking at a real fast rate Til they said that I might not graduate Then I said fuck the dumb shit Cause Pops'll fuck me up quick If things continued So I start rapping about shit I been through And I got real good Now I look at all the kids in the neighborhood Trying to be baby macks Doing shit that I did seven years back Going through a stage But before they can grow up they on the front page And they mommas is having a fit Cause they died young doing dumb shi

Ghetto Zone

They got uzis, they got shotguns, they got explosives They got access to any kind of weapon they want within 24 hours We got over 50,000 gangbangers out there Violent J serving ghetto hard street shit You know its potent when the funky-ass beat hit Rolling the dice and we's hittin' point ICP out of southwest Detroit Running with a gang of 20 street hoods Hookers on my back cuz I'm selling them cheap goods Looking through the motherfucking alleyway They can't catch Violent crazy-ass psychopath J But I guess I wasn't so crazy this time Now I'm chillin in the back of car 49 Yes, rhyme grippin that metal They put a man on the moon, but can't do shit for the ghetto I look at all that and it makes me sick I wanna grab them motherfuckers make em swallow a brick So I grab anybody I can find Beat a fiend in the head with a goddamn stop sign Flex one of us and I'm a find you Bullet rips through your chest and hits the bitch behind you Killed two birds with one stone You're laying in the street with a bullet in your dome And to those hillbillies listening down south Talk shit about the city with my nuts in your wife's mouth And keep stringing on your banjo Cuz we don't like that shit we're we come from, bro Now the ICP stands alone in the southwest ghetto zone Ah, for Christ's sake Ah, you don't talk about that garbage here That's for the hell-hole where you come from This is the good part of town We let you deal with that type of bullshit Your problems don't concern us Go home now, well go on Southwest Detroit is condemned one's home The cops just don't know what to do Jump Steady, Rude Boy, and the PSR They got my back, O.G., you won't make it far I got my nine at my gut and it's startin' to hurt Where can you keep a gat wearing skins and a t-shirt? Now I'm roaming like a true ghetto thug Fiends on the sac cuz I'm booming that crack I know you heard aloud what J said When I told you that I sold to that bitch, that basehead Know you can't argue with the truth If I hit you in your mouth, you're gonna spit out a tooth And I laugh at a motherfucking cop Sittin' with his fat ass in a donut shop At the party where the ICP shows take face Billy throws the handcuffs all over the place We're here to protect and protect we do Then I ask who the fuck protects us from you Cops are always beatin on someone Shot a mute in the back, he told him not to run And the motherfucking black panthers know it That's why some cops now are catching a bullet I'm runnin, I'm runnin, we'll end the chase When Jump Steady puts his gauge in your motherfuckin face Mind your own in the southwest ghetto zone Hey, yo, G, who the fuck do you think you are, man? You know who you're fucking with the IC motherfuckin P, G Why don't you all step the fuck up before you get shot, boy Keep running your lips, see what happens motherfuckers Yea, G, see what I'm saying, now what's up with that shit Come to Del Ray and drive by in shit The cops just don't know what to do These are my homeboys, vato See, are home right here is all we have, man I love them and they love me back, man Well I guess I'm a bad guy Cuz I cuss a lot I say fuck a lot And I rap to tell you how I'm feeling When I'm in the old spot sit and we reeling Through Del Ray, call it Hell Ray It's where ICP stay, yo G And the forces that always talk shit get beat And if I'm out numbered I gotta gauge in the backseat Cuz if I feel I am mack dead In the trunk of my car I got weapons I'd a never had A thousand motherfucker in the back make the car saw Rodney's fat ass make the whole damn muffler drag Rappin to a sac-chasing Heidi I told the bitch I ain't never even seen a Mazaratti Ever sell out to a freak, fuck no That why I'll tell ya I'll never end up in a box for a ho When the check comes I ignore it And the bitch is gonna ask me to fucking pay for it I give the ho an empty 12-pack Take your ass to the store and bring some Faygo back That's all I pay for bitch now get the fuck on ho Stick around I got something you can suck on ho Violent J won't be ganked By no nappy-headed, bare-footed, crackheaded sewer skank You gotta handle your own In the southwest ghetto zone ICP And to all the sets running in southwest Detroit Good luck and stay strong Latin Counts Young Guns CFP X-men To the Cobras And DT ICP They got uzis, they got shotguns They got explosives

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