4th Disciple - Older Gods lyrics

[Verse 1: Ghostface k**ah] Aiyo I roll like a Bat Out of Hell, evil acapell's fly Spitting out of my grill before I hit the sky With springtime colors, juicy as a Sunkist Certain broads double Dutch this, they carve it in they wrist Pillsbury blazes, straightening combs left on the stove Crumbs in my lady hair, plus yours, the look gold God, the old chain and ball technique, got these Vegetable lasagne n***as in they whips, jumping out they seats 18 Bronzeman Part II We like Dorothy Hamill on ice, we in your hood we might circle Hats down low in the Range, switch lanes Change my tire, peel out, real loud on the stage yo I sh**ted on your hood kid, I sh**ted on your hood Got to your burner too late, I'm looking real good Draped out, shining like a fresh fifty cent piece "Yo girlfriend, come here, oh sh**, you my man's niece" The gourmet pocket twenty, bombs made of clay Sexcapades take place, we f**ing forty eight shades Might walk up in your studio, time slap your engineer Lighter fluid to DAT style, hand me the matches now [Verse 2: Raekwon] Aiyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this n***as bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana twist E shakes, puffing on lye, feeding the seed's plate Pulling out old .38s to rob gates Major wake up, the kid tell tales, make a n***a head wake up Beats break, the n***a whipped, take off his time Honolulu status, gladdest, the rich rock cabbage And dollar vans grands, that n***a mad savage Stationary Hall of Justice, n***as came clumped out Just came home, now they bunked out Money be longer than triple life, till the Sun burn out That's my word, move it with the burner out Fidel way of thinking, roll with the Mac bent Ac-10 Most of my team, Five Percent Check what the live said, rolling with Guess vests pedestrians Yo, holding my nuts, f**ing thousand dollar lesbians [Hook: Ghostface k**ah and Raekwon] (x2) Yo, the Older God put me on to how to rock this Maintain 360 Lord live prosperous It only takes a lesson a day, just to an*lyze life One time in the respectable mind [Verse 3: GZA] Let the shot spark, soon as his pit bull barks Tire scars from skid marks leaves from jams in school parks Witness forget his original statement Even in protection programs there's no escapement Gunned down, three in town hit king from seven crowns Spent rounds, catch him while he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge Wounded, back in the '83 summer heat Up in 3-0-9 park, rhyming off the drummer's beat I stalk the city streets demonstrating mic wrecks All looking stank, I ain't playing with a full deck And as they nervously stare, I know they scared They saw the coming of Wu in neon in Times Square Household name a**a**in, k**a Bee Mill to the grain that posess the Wu trilogy Quick to spot those that bite camoflouge and blend Those that got styles, they got identical twins Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are finicky Without sk**s, they master the art of mimicry But I go line for line on the whole page Your unspotted life on the mic is old age {*rocket fired, whistles off and explodes, breaking gla***}