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WU-TANG CLAN lyrics - The Swarm

Cobra Clutch

Original and similar lyrics
Yo, yeah bitch Aiyyo, motherfucker Aiyyo, swallow it Aiyyo we dazzle off this bloody version of 'Glaciers' Slang shot threw a gem in his mouth, swallowed his razor (wsssht) Say no more, my back be parked against the wall Trooper square holding, 'Face don't give a fuck about the law Take off the bracelets, don't get blinded by the ice Boo It's not cool, Veronica slept, plus the decimal Look at my jumper logo look familiar It's Power (Where is he) Yo every fine snitch knocks an inch off Eddie Bauer Gucci sneaker rockin just another form of 'Chessboxin' No cock-blockin, supreme clientele, till I'm droppin Kangol slanted, Ghost'll ran with it, hippie hung-out Club bandit never empty-handed when I brand it Mark callin Austin, Mark callin Austin down in Boston Both of them dead, cop in the loft and big chain swingin nigga, Matchbox car drivin Street whylin, Role' with the four-finger glidin Watch him, scorchin with spells and top toxin Amoxins til the stock skyrocket, Bobby Mocassin Switched from Pert Plus, escrow on the side throw in sun trust Ghost'll keep shinin til the sun bust yo word up, born-to-be right behind the curtain with her nose out Sixty center get the Rover out Featherhead heathens, teethin on mic dicks When thy said, 'Let the kids die for your bread nigga!' Yo, promoters don't want us in clubs because we spaz out 'Who is these righteous motherfuckers with they flags out' Stapleton Projects, recognize you're lookin at Allah's best, puttin on the hits is no contest NOW, who the hypest in New York City WU-TANG! Radio stop shittin on me! 'I got fifty men out in the street Now if they all get bitch troubles I starve Is that it Is that what you're tryin to tell me' [Superfly] Aiyyo, the moccasin money, one man behind the plate Hold it down honey-shallah rock the half man Gumby Twisted, the mime of the floods, niggaz spell drama one oh five point six llama Cosmetic classical, slum is shield, Milagro Beanfield Watch me inhale half of you, new attributes Teletronics, DBX, one sixty X Compression with the A and sharp press Extract bass in which the gooey dew drips, vanilla suckle with jasmine bits, five hundred rap battin average One taste the bowl and blow up magic, Houdini escapes from the fermenting hell halls of tragic Speaking to the First of April's, deep in the rap game Erasial, Excedrin head bredderns catch facials Side orders, one telephone for take out Stomp your man half to death rob him then we break it Get off on the Clove Exit, knees dirty, chick now with low leverage, watch it how she lick the head of me Cause it's law, order today, we pay dues New Tomorrow's, Rubik's Cube money in a tube Deck the Halls, crush salary dice that's in hall Hey y'all Peppermint Pattie's, slum my Peter Paul Wrangler, straight laid the track when it's sag with one banger, interlude loop caused me to hang up Ticklish, Crunchberry niggaz at the flicks pissed off Standin in the rain and can't find they whips Suckers! Motherfucker! Yo Yo, promoters don't want us in clubs because we spaz out 'Who is these righteous motherfuckers with they flags out' Stapleton Projects, recognize you're lookin at Allah's best, puttin on the hits is no contest NOW, who the hypest in New York City WU-TANG! Radio stop shittin on me!

Get In 2 It

Fiend "Street Life"
Boy you done fucked up now Boy ..... [Fiend] All I know you better duck when I blast run when I pass (and get somewhere) Come up with my cash I'ma up and get mask (and get somewhere) Take what I'm owed I'ma have to unload (the ??) Re-stock the rifles ?? (cause I'm street with it) Never be punked keep one in the trunk (my deadly assassin) Get to jumping the skunk Mr Whomp (and I'm acting bad) Loaded and full don't try none of that bull (2 steps to the head) Go on and pull ?? (they'll find you dead) Down in the south claiming the heat (let 'em bleed) Going to get bucked and not give a fuck (where its ass bleed) This ain't just words and I damn sure can't fake it What I'm trying to say is you a coward and you might not make it Chorus:So what we got to do to get into it What we got to do to get into it Boy thinking we can do it [Mia X] Now we can flip anything that I front ya You say nigga I ride before you bring mine's I'ma leave yours outlined in chalk And if you talk to them f-e-d's Like the street code homie then the catfish are hungry Too many phony mothafuckas try to step in the circle Don't you know TRU bitches will hurt you Break your shirt too Mia X (Mama Drama) coming and swinging at dumb hoe beaters Right and left will crush you attitude adjuster Fuck get ready for war nigga send them on in Cause I got more guts than nare ?? I fears no man or woman and kin after them My gat retracts at them reacts and claps at them Nigga Chorus: Repeat 4X [Fiend] Now I done seen your kind before you walked that line before Plenty niggaz talking they sticking ass out ?? I don't hide from my hoes bitch I meet 'em where I tell 'em And let the results be 3 days and you'll smell 'em I can't give a nigga the satifaction of altercation Miscommunication got his ass with a bang face Chasing mothafuckas up the block if I have to Don't think that I won't smack you or bitch slap you With something filthy I bought for the dark 6 shot ghetto hot so I can't be caught Look I fuck with 'em I let the bulldog talk to 'em Don't got the pedigree of a g until it bark to 'em

Get Down

NAS "God's Son"
'Get-get.. get down!' - [James Brown] [Nas] Uh.. uh.. uh.. New York streets where killers'll walk like Pistol Pete And Pappy Mason, gave the young boys admiration Prince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem Street legends, the drugs kept the hood from starvin Pushin cars, Nicky Barnes was the 70's But there's a long list of high-profile celebrities Worldwide on the thorough side of things Livest kings, some died, one guy, one time one day grabs me, as I'm about to blast heat 40-side of Vernon, I turned well he asked me 'Whatchu up to, the cops gon' bust you' I was a teen drunk off brew, stumbled I wondered if God sent him, cause two squad cars entered the block and looked at us, I ain't flinch when they watched I took it upstairs, the bathroom mirror, brushed my hair Starin at a young disciple, I almost gave my life to what the dice do Yeah man, throwin them bones Hopin my ace get his case thrown His girl ain't wait for him, she in the world straight hoein While he lookin at centerfolds of pretty girls showin they little cooch, gangstas don't die he's livin proof The D.A. who tried him was lyin A white dude, killed his mother durin the case Hung jury, now the D.A. is bein replaced Pre-trial hearin is over, it's real for the soldier Walks in the courtroom, the look in his eyes is wild Triple-homicide, I sit in the back aisle I wanna crack a smile when I see him Throw up a fist for black power, cause all we want is his freedom He grabbed a court officer's gun and started squeezin Then he grabbed the judge, screams out -- nobody leavin everybody 'Get down, get down! Get down, get down!' - [James Brown] [sample cut and repeated] [Nas] Everybody 'Get down, get down! Get down, get down!' - [James Brown] [sample cut and repeated] [Nas] Some niggaz fuck they enemies in they ass when they catch 'em Weird-ass niggaz are dangerous, so don't test 'em They make you, dissapear, this a year that I won't forget Sold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs Southern niggaz, independent label, real killers Know the business, ran Tennessee for years, now they chillin They had the coke game somethin crazy Sold music out the trunk of they car, that shit amazed me Put me onto heron blunts, sherm or somethin Took a puff, what the fuck, I turned to punch them Southern niggaz ain't slow, nigga tried to play me I left from around them dudes, they cool but they crazy Now I'm back around the old school that raised me New York gangstas, we loungin, out in L.A. see A dude wrote my dawg from Pelican Bay The letter say, 'Nas I got your back - the fools don't play' I rolled with some Crips down to a Crenshaw funeral Never saw so many men slaughtered and I knew the ho responsible The nigga still alive in a hospital Midnight they crept in his room and shot the doctor too See my cousin's in the game, thuggin and things He plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano Gave the ass up, I'ma mack daddy Soprano She passed me the indigo, but the imbecile shoulda never tippy-toed, thought my eyes were closed Openin the hotel room do', to let her goons in But I moved in a manner, on some Jet Li shit I let the hammers blow, wet three kids See honey thought I had somethin to do, with all the drama Cause I was with a crew, that had her people killed Called up my cousin, told him I ain't fuckin witchu He responded cool, but told me out here this how motherfuckers 'Get down, get down! Get down, get down!' - [James Brown] [sample cut and repeated] [Nas] Everybody 'Get down, get down! Get down, get down!' - [James Brown] [sample cut and repeated] [unknown speaker] All I really gotta say is that if that's how our people gon' get down, how we ever gon' get up How we ever gon' get up if that's how we get down A shame when you ain't look at it My folk is yo' folk, but we all kinfolk Somebody gotta make a change

We Play

BIZZY BONE
Intro- Ya'll ain't ready for this shit. Ya'll know what it is. Ha ha (Please believe it) Yeah you know what it is nigga. Fuck these niggas who do not believe, in what the fuck the 7th Sign will do. You motherfuckers. I need money, you motherfuckers. Put it on me motherfucker. Put it on me. This how we play motherfuckers. Comin' to get you niggas (7th Sign mastermind in full effect… yeah. All you suckers can eat a dick. All you playa haters, ya'll outta stop that shit, fuckin' around and take yo bitch…Ha ha ha. 7th Sign nigga. DOA nigga. Capo Confucious, Lil Rasuu, Jule Syon, Precious, Baby Seal, Nina Ross. Liealoha, and my sister big Heather) -Chorus- This how we play (Yeh) This how we play (Yeh..) That's how we play... Bizzy Bone Gimme an ounce for 350, nigga need a quick divorce/ My niggas keep tellin' me what they keep sayin' about B in the Source/ But I don't read magazines, nigga that's just irratation/ Bizzy reads the type of books to further along his education/ Little do they know about what-what-what/ Little do they know about who-who-who/ Little do they know about me-me-me/ Get these and tell about you-you-you/ Ain't no time to be trippin' on women cause women will have you get caught up and shot/ Lil' niggas them bitches is yours so slap on tha rubber or beat up the cock/ Lil' niggas ya'll so horny/ Only got yo' car for broads/ How could I be hatin' when ya'll are the fakest niggas I've ever saw/ Ya'll rollin' with snitches, I don't know no snitches/ I roll with real niggas till they fall off, God pick ‘em up for they loose they britches/ And I feel my children love me, Daddy gotsta do mo' better/ By the time we makin' money and spendin' my time with ‘em, with ‘em, with ‘em, stuck up in the middle/ Play me like fiddle, filthy like everyday, don't be fickle motherfuckers -Chorus- Bizzy Bone Would it be better if we could just choose the future, blood mixed up, call me fuchsia/ Thug picked up by the people; No Ruthless, no medusa/ See I got jacked in Beverly Hills, still I keeps it real, very selective, wanna just smoke and chill/ See I'm a veteran, all the grenade launchers wont cost me much/ Anyone could get extorts/ Yeah nigga, you can be touched/ I did all my dirt in the 'burbs/ I was ridin' around with my sisters' babies father/ Double barrel shot-gun say word/ Ready or not here come my words, steady or not, that shit's absurd/ Already got, me all perturbed/ Cop on tha block, gettin' on my nerves/ This is the lifestyle of that brick sellin' been falsified/ Niggas don't let ‘em lie to yall, I'm a tell the truth on mine/ And I really want no more/ Catch yo' ass security wires/ Open the door, these rappers is scared as hell/ What you frontin' for? He got his entourage, and he got his bag of weed, is this the way it is? Little Bizzy takes the lead -Chorus- Bizzy Bone Whateva, whateva, we gotta get cheddar; I'm better with money/ Been runnin' around, with a gun and a skully/ And one on my buddy's now dippin' tha swisha/ And then again hmm../ Nobody's the best, and ya betta believe it, then leave it alone, lone/ I'm a tell ya'll, all my secrets/ Son of a mistress, carry on outta tha foster home, been raised outta my freaky ways/ Burn my collection of porn, but I don't won't no straights/ What about church folks stressin' that I should change/ Live ya life, I'm a live my life without the lies and let me pray for change/ Now keep the pimp cup, I don't wanna blow the pimps up/ Cause my father's father was pimpin' and he left all of his children checkin' (Fucker!) I don't have to respect it and you don't have to respect it/ Gimmie my space, and I'm a give you yours/ It's my profession, nigga (Nigga!) It ain't a game, yall can pop tha collar, uh/ It'll be some drama in tha parkin lot/ 7th sign poppin' ya column/ One for the money, hollar/ Two for the D, playas/ It's the way we play and police nigga ya'll can swallow -Chorus-

Too Hot

50 CENT
(feat. Nas, Nature) [Intro: DJ scratching] 'Niggas bit off Nas shit' - [Ghostface Killah] 'Admit it, you bit it' - [G. Dep] 'Niggas bit off Nas shit, niggas, niggas, bit off, Nas shit' - [Ghostface Killah] 'Admit if, you bit it, bit it' - [G. Dep] [Repeat] [Verse 1 - 50 Cent] You can be a ridah and ride, or a coward and hide Either way you go against me, you still gon die I got four macs, a few nines, I'm ready for beef You wanna talk, it ain't about money, then let it be brief I need a drop for when it's a hot, a hummer for when it's cold An ill attorney's in my corner when these fake niggas fold The shit I kick fuck with niggas mentally, makes them wanna mention me And see me doing a quarter century in the penitentiary Nastradamus predicted 50's the future, that's a fact money I run up on your workers with the mac, like where that pack money I'm a tell ya'll what Papi told me I got what you need, 19,5 a key I stay catching a stunt, frontin' in somethin' mean And I'll clap any nigga for the right amount of cream Run up on them all with the same problem solver Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver. What! [Chorus] Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock Cause then we gonna run up in your spot Screamin' get the fuck on the floor, give us the Ro' [Repeat] [Verse 2 - Nature] Aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo, aiyyo I'm like Sugar Shane Mosley, it ain't no beef You're staring, a ticket holder that sits in row three Next to Ron Artest and Kobe Yo I woulda went pro too, then I let them phillies slow me I'm like a black man's asthma, seeking a pump Breathin' deeper when I'm creeping up Ya'll need to fuck with the tightest, I stick niggas Ensevilitus, leavin' whole families in silence My virus is obvious, past on to most rap fiends Un cured, ain't no vaccine Last seen at the automatic teller machine, maxing out Or in the studio booth, blacking out It's Con Ed style, real twisted, I disappear on some Blair Witch shit Comin' back I'm rich kid Either or, you can't stop me with my feet in the door Or walk away from the street or the morgue, play your part nigga. [Chorus - Last line cut off] 'Niggas bit off Nas' - Ghostface Killah 'Admit it, you bit it' - G. Dep 'Tell these niggas somethin' God' - Ghostface Killah [Verse 3 - Nas] What, yo I disturb niggas and white boys, with five pointed stars Tatted on they arms, pimp your moms, like I'm Magic Don Juan From Queens to Hong Kong, weed in the bong We smoke that, leave our minks on the coat rack Those that plot on me, nine times outta ten the nine is on me Feds search the God, but nothin' they find on me When I rap don't wait to clap applaud sooner Unless you hate a nigga like George Bush Jr., I bring awkward to you Porsche maneuvers thru the city like New York sewers Stinkin' up the air, Central Park, horse manure Rims is 22 inches, Benz suspensions 22 inch dick when I'm pimpin' Impotent you niggas get me sick, wanna be soundin' like You knowin' my arithmetic, but we don't sound alike 50 Cent with Braveheart-ed, we ride to the grave depart us You fake niggas imitate what I started, let's go [Intro - Once] [Chorus]

'cause I Can

E-40 "Charlie Hustle: The Blueprint Of A Self-Made Millionaire"
[Jayo Felony] Forty-WADAHHHHHHHHH! Ehhh.. (ehh..) YEA! We do this for life ya dumb fucks, y'all niggaz is dumptrucks The type to bitch up, and getcha eyebrows plucked Mark my words loco gon' have it like Motown's heyday So dope they name us all twice like we, Pelle Pelle You better be prepared to call me Bullet Loco Gorde Pop my collar with none other than Earl-40 Square off on a square like it's high noon, cause i'm a tycoon If you fuck with Sick Wid It y'all niggaz gon' die soon I can't make a fiend do nuthin against they will I just leave they eyes so yellow you see em and yield WHOA -- spill the guts of the ones that's not real So when you see me nigga scream out one shot kill Gotta, spot on my shoe from all the blood we spill I get it even if I don't want it nigga like free refills Y'all don't wanna give us our props, y'all niggaz gon' get dropped Nigga fuck hip-hop, nigga this CRIP-hop {*gunshot*} WHAT? Chorus: E-40 + Jayo Felony (repeat 2X) Pimp'n why you splurgin? (Cause I can) Why you go up in my bitch? (Nigga cause I can) Why you smokin all that broccoli? (Cause I can) Why everybody think you rich? (Nigga cause I am!) [E-40] Motherfucker ?? grew up on the undertuckamajig My destination control the block Fast ass wad full of ones in my pocket with a hundred dollar bill wrapped on top Thirty-two shot extended clip to keep it trill when I pop Durin the summer it's Zenith's but in the winter ride stock Better believe us don't try to play us for false cause it's not a game no way no how Bullet Loco, Charlie Hustle and Major Payne nigga now How you think peons try'na deallllllllll with it? Fuck around and wind up gettin killllllllled with it Beotch! New booty rappers get penalized, and expedited Cause they don't think about they shit, before they write it We don't sell narcotics with the po-po problems, playboy take a look We off into real estate, CD's, millions of books Used to be crooks still hang around crooks, dealers and ex-cons Niggaz with Lucci from slangin that alcohol and shermon Players with cake, pushin they weight, try to find the last trap Transfer they bloody bread to llegal corporate scratch What they want? Chorus [C-Bo] Are y'all fools ready for dis? It's for loco for sure I'll blast With Bullet Loco and 40-Water we take your life then we haul ass Tall cash stacked in the basement Can't leave the house with less than a zip an a extra clip Niggaz wanna know why I get down like this ain't that a bitch? You see my, life on TV cause it's the daddy with the ?? and a P Niggaz just can't seem to get away from PD while they surrounded me and houndin me cause I ball hard, on parole in a double-R Fifty to a hundred G's and je-wels on wrists Nigga we ghetto stars Shit my niggaz spent G's and push drop Bentleys Remi Mark sippin, Cristal, X-O Hennesey And better believe if we enemies we spray ya wit these Every night at twelve have your whole motherfuckin city prayin on knees and still 40-Water pass the strap and I blast, Jayo hit the gas Had to tear his whole motherfuckin head off tryin to get to his stash Every man they all man, quick to pull a lick out the Brougham Only reason I rode down on that bitch ass nigga, is because I can! Chorus

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