Wu-tang Clan - The W lyrics

(GZA (RZA)) I grew up around block parties ready to rock Behind the rope n***a with my rhymes on co*k The verse shot first n***a who had sh** to pop A bad weather blow the feathers off a hundred flocks With 70% goose, 30 ducked, get stuck And each link in your chain is trucked No ends in this rhyme cipher with nine snipers Charge of the kiss from the Pied Piper I live around DJ's, b-boys, MC's Through rap never thinkin' +Airways+ are TVs It was strictly all about magnificant rhyme clout +Rec Room+, 2 dollars with the flyer as we would doubt Now his wigs pushed back Name scratched off the plaque, too wild to re-enact (Yo) (Chorus x2: U-God) Got to check out +The W+, got to check out-- +The W+ Got to check out +The W+, got to check out-- +The W+ (Method Man) MC's have the right to remain silent Everything you say can and will be used against y'all muh'f**ers And Mef can only trust ya as far as I can see ya Me need ya? That'll be the.. day, ya busta It gets no rougher when, me and my comrades rush ya Like red heat with hammers and sickles I milk like ya baby mama's nipples, got issues It's just us, so what's what if any can touch us Then lord strike me down where I stand at now wit this bottle of Remy, gettin' f**ed up child, listen The most notable MC, ya source for hip hop quotable MC Of course it's Tical! (Chorus) (U-God) The Princess, the Pope, incest, dope Choke you by the throat, the chrome handle smoke The man not for joke, we all out for broke Plus the herbal that I tote, the murder that I wrote You can't do me none, my Uzi weighs a ton I'm comin' from the slum, Wu is number one I stumbled on the drum, the Gods are troublesome +Rumble+ when we come, boy you better +Run+, +Run+ (Chorus) (Raekwon) Aiyo, it's like this jumpin' out of golden whips Flashin' mega bricks, outfits, rock ridiculous whips, b**h Wavy hair, men of the year, bent in the stairs Sick winter gear, been on position is where Call him an Asiatic God-body, +Longevity+ Slang rap, you get your whip wrapped Swing through the hood calmly Yo what up? Staten Island, Bush, George Dust shut sh** off, whips spin off Get off, slips, which, wiz Mind di-tects mines, lines lick sick nines Pick wines, lift up, bill a n***a six flies Dip wide, dress my sh** up, f** six times, wish mine Rub lamps, take thousand dollar crystalines (Chorus)