Onyx - The Worst lyrics

Wu-tang, wu-tang, onyx, onyx (x3) [raekwon] Eh, yo Staircases to stage now, major waves tanktop Nautica, flippin your daughter 30 ways Yeah, who want mine, bent outta shape one time Play em all starin at your beautiful sunshine Watch my sh** sh**, n***az in the back, wigs lit You know the stats god, n***az in the back, backs lit War drug raps, thug hats and mobb hats Spit on that cat, this yellow love, n***a f**in with a rich cat My sh** now 5 feet 6, with a crisp hat Plus this throwin now on 30 bricks, n***az is with that Yo, fedrados rock my man, yo 300 thousand dollars in a bottle, b**h mad as hollow My techinique, roller in the road, gold league You know the code read, suitcase money, stole heat Rock madby's stole 100 dollar bags, though That n***a grabbed me, gamin himself like milton bradley [fredro starr, (x-1)] Yo, this semi-automatic, glock this and lock this Heat spots can knock it, it's so hot chicks is topless Rims are spotless, chrome rims spin obnoxtious You knock this, bust a shot Don't miss, you better knock this (x-1 while out and watch this Til your eyes turn red with blotches Eatin scraps out the garbage Unload a cartridge and bust a cap X could never trust a cat, onyx is as hot as it gets b**hes f**in for free, is outta the quest Blow blood outta your flesh, your body outta your vest) I cross the heat from across the street Fly you up off your feet, you die leaving short but sweet Street crime, time is money, n***a don't waist mine Dispose my 9, throwin your shine, your froze in time Lookin to d**h, holdin your breath, laided out On the dance floor, blood and moet, i'm blowin your set Trick 20 g's, don't sweat, your goin to d**h I'm goin for broke, i'm blowin out smoke, your catchin strokes (wu-tang and bald head, swis foreheads, leavin you all red X million, fully be on illest, your realest form, bringin the storm For seein you gone, nothin keepin my calm, but heat in my palm Sleepin i'm gone, you see what i'm on Keepin outta the dark, scatter your parts From here to battery parts) Chorus: [odb {sampled from "protect ya neck"}] First things first man, your f**in with the worst (x3) You can't slam, so let me get fooled on a man [suave] Still master graph, after cash graphed, get staffed Splash your cla**, mash your staff What, n***a get smacked, you ain't worth a punch Hurt your bunch, get mercked your front In the wrong certain punk, mack clever n***az Def wrecker, catch on a delo with mecca and etcha-sketcha Shakin, erase, vacatin your space, breakin your face Twist you, and won't miss you, official master k**er bee Full blast, get off, smash, pull fast For your stash, long as the war last, put up in your a** Tryin to count more math, bringin the hardcore rap [k**a sin] We be the mainstream, supreme rhyme, top of the line Cuisine feens, #1 love for thugs queens sceamin on cream My whole team love e-cup bras and mobb cars k**a sin known for makin n***az reach for the stars This terrorist, lyricist in the mist of the abyss Canibus, evangelist, i impulse with metal fists Wu build like construction and bang like precusion On the planet battery, backs combustin, malfunction, what Chorus x2 [method man, (sticky fingaz)] (holy sh**, who the f** is that) It's john, john (sticky fingaz, kid, you got my back) I got your back cousin (i got the mac cousin) And when them n***az start jumpin, bust back cousin (because it's the new year, time for some new sh** Nowadays rappers dyin over music) Dead on arrival, we raised in the ghetto singin songs For survival, duckin homicidal, you rival (yeah, onyx, wu-tang on tracks we gang bang, chiti bang bang) Chiti chiti bang bang, hot nicks spit flame Lava pump through my vains, caught in the zone Home on the range (eh, yo you ready for the ferocious, atrocious We go that supercalfragilisticexbealli...) dose sh** (8-ball in the corner pocket) We snatch wallets off the white college The big apple forever rotten Now when it comes to hard target hot nicks (so what the bullet clot) Pop sh**, we due to knowledge, to sharp n***as, once bitten Major swingers, heavy hittin, poly your kitten, throw up your mitten Stop b**hin, no slippin, no pot to piss in Them meltin pots boilin hot now in mel's kitchen (yo, sticky fingaz, one of the illest mother f**ers My moms don't raise no s**ers, i slap rappers Turn em in to singers, touch something of mine and you'll have 9 fingers) Enough said, let's make whole f**in town read (and rip their whole crew to a shread I got cold blood) hold your club (i hold blood) show no love (so bug) shoot your whole club (and shoot up the whole club) We throw slugs (you ain't no thug I earn every god damn penny that i got Son, i roll with a shotgun in the convertible I wish a n***a with wood, would try to f**in Jack me, i'll murder you) Chorus Wu-tang, wu-tang, onyx, onyx (x2)