Raekwon - Bulletproof Diaries lyrics

[Intro: Raekwon] Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah Uh-huh, yeah Sit my alligator jacket on the flo' Let that sh** crawl around, whattup Game? How are you my n***a? Let's get this money, you heard? [Verse 1: Game & (Raekwon)] Money in zipped duffle bags, shotgun shells My k**as gorillas, n***as couldn't see 'em with gazelles Fronting a** n***as, go hang with Pharrell Trying to be a Cowboy, you catch bullets like Terrell Owens, call it T.O., he leaking like a project sink Busted open like a hot dog link (Beef!) it gave me time to think, yeah I did my f**ing prison thing Came out still on point, like the RZA rings I'm from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got k**a Bees (respect) Black Wall Mafia, new millenium Genovese Got a million dollars say LeBron don't win a ring (word?) I know Kobe, I be on the floor, "Kobe!" You know a n***a that can score 81? Show me! I got a Cuban Link to a f**in O.G And n***a you're too close, what the f**, you trying to blow me? (back up) This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm (Iced out) Where you be? (strip club, throwin ones) Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ' (Big sharks) Me too (swimming in a pile of ones) [Interlude: Raekwon] Yeah n***a, tomorrow man Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs n***a In the Bronx [Hook: Raekwon & (Game)] This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms) Son where you be? (Under palm trees staying warm) (Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on) I'mma keep it (Compton) Staten ('til the day is done) [Interlude: Raekwon] Geah, fronting on us n***a, it's like It's like racing a n***a in Afghanistan to go get some oil n***a You gon' f** around and get your head burnt [Verse 2: Raekwon] I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact Hip-Hop's never dead, the Cuban gave 'em heart attacks Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the V's Sneeze wrong, course I'm clappin Keep it movin homeboy, the mac's always actin Spit in your face, go 'head lil' baby rappers Can't f** with us convicts, Stat-land It's like actions, cliques'll die right with traction It's Wall Street money and two gunny's Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy Blow your head off like lunch meat Chef and The Game run the country Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin' f** with they paper their gun squeezin Off top, leak from the cop, then n***a jumped, this is front season [Interlude: Raekwon] Yo, man yo Game man Let these n***as know man f'real man We official man They wan' be reading our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard? [Verse 3: Game & (Raekwon)] (Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten? I'd be King Kong knocking down the buildings in Manhattan (Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block sh** West coast a**a**in on some real 2Pac sh** My style's smoking like after a Glock spit Game get the blood money, f** b**hes and pop Crys' -tal like it's New Year's, cause this a new year Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here The Benjamins won't stop, and neither would a chrome Glock I k** a fire-breathing dragon with a dome shot Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks We had a meeting before we got here, so sh** gon' pop Heads gon' roll, Patron gon' spill Fitted caps getting peeled like the chrome on the wheels Got a half a mil' say your wounds won't heal I declare war, n***a who gon' deal? [Outro: Raekwon] Yeah, y'all know what time it is man "Bulletproof Diary" n***a, for real Many may read this man A lot of n***as might not make it home, you heard? We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man All them real general n***as man All them n***as that's out there man Don't get no rest or none of that man, for real The Chef n***a, Game whattup baby? I love you, ya heard? Super mad love for you over here for you baby You know how we do it, we go all over the f**ing world man Get a lot of bread man, word up, hun'ned my n***a We take you to Boca Chica or some'n man, knahmsayin? Sip on some motherf**in, Don Julio or some'n, y'knahmsayin? With two foul rings on, y'knahmsayin? Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us Half Guatemala, half Somalian n***a n***as ain't seen them colors man {*fades out*}