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Lyrics for Wu Gambinos by Raekwon the Chef:
| | | Artist: | Raekwon the Chef |
| | Album: | Only Built 4 Cuban Linx | | Track: | Wu Gambinos | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 257 | | | | Lyrics: | Intro:
And in our line of work we need all the help we can get
Tony Wind is
the name he works for a drug ring in Central America
Who wants to kill him?
No
information say yes or no
One point five million
Alright you get what you want
money's no object
They're all clean no serial numbers untraceable
And there are
explosive head bullets in the clip
[Raekwon Ghostface (Method)]
Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo-yo, here come the cop man
Yo Starks come here, come here Sun
Come here for a minute!
Aiyyo aiyyo hold up hold up
Shit we gotta go to the store
for more baking soda
Yo yo yo get your fuckin, yo this made of glass nig!
Get your
big Adidas off my moms table man!
Get the fuck off it man.
Yo just chill man, pass
the Cristal man.
Niggaz is greedy man, damn.
Big ass shits.
Yo man you ain't
smoking none of that weed in here man.
Chill man.
Bobby Steels
Somebody go to the store man
Sup kid?
Get that baking soda.
(Yo!) Let's cut
the pie five ways
(Noodles) We came off with two mil kid
Fast (Rollie Fingers, no
doubt coming through)
La cosa nostra
(Johnny Blaze!)
(Lou Diamonds!)
Represent kid.
(Tony Starks)
Universal frontier
(Original blood claat bad
bwoys)
Chorus: Method Man
Who come to get you? None. They want guns!
I be the first to set off shit, last to run
Wu roll together as one
I call
my brother Sun cuz he shine like one
Verse One: Method Man, a.k.a. Johnny Blaze
Check it
Scriptures hit the body like sawed off shotties
Like my hair
notty and my nosepiece snotty
Fuck a nigga hottie, that whole pussy probably
Burn
like the deserts of Mogabi, for real
Ain't nuttin fraudulent here, we pioneer
Commandeer a new frontier, this be the Wu yeah
Thirty-six chambers of fear, huh, you lost it
Information leakin out your faucets, hmmmmm
Time to forfeit your crown and leave the
ground
There's a new sheriff in town holdin it down
It's the two holster, shit shot
smoker
Wanted dead or alive, bounty on the poster
Wild in the West, a student of my
culture
And life is the test, hold up
Let a nigga catch his breath, we still payin
dues
And the last one is death, back to the essence
With that shit you stressin,
this rap profession
Now peep Tical, the son of the Shaolin
Isle plus my style,
Criminology pays
The last times and days, Johnny fuckin Blaze
Verse Two:
Raekwon the Chef, a.k.a. Lou Diamonds
This goes for niggaz who know
Wu will
grow like llello, ley no
Plus coolin in Barbados
Ricaans be givin me much shit, the
dutch shit
Stay cool papi, seize it with enough shit
Back at the lab a, crack's
bagged up
Yo niggaz act up, what blow up the workers if they hafta
Senoritas, fuckin
up a storm buyin guards margaritas
Suckin his dick, up in the whip long
Designed for
rhyme prime nigga jail time jiggas
Them niggaz up in Height figures bitin niggaz
Silks Wally-Wear finger rolled chain yeah
Jakes beware black rap millionaires
Rock
hairs leather goose bears blowin this year
One eight hundred gambino niggaz yeah
[Meth]
Wu roll together as one
I call my brother Sun cuz he shine like one
Verse Three: RZA, a.k.a. Bobby Steels
Solid gold crown is shinin
Solid gold, check it Sun yo
Solid gold crown be shinin and blindin like some diamonds
I be pioneerin the style in the cloud with silver linings
Double breasted, bullet
proof vested, well protected
The heart the rib cage the chest and solar plexus
Castin stones, crackin two-hundred and six bones
And watch yo' ass get blown to a sea of
fire and brimstone
How dare you approach it with dim pones
The overfiend like noah
bean green souls with a soldier mean
The grand exquisite imperial wizard oh is it
The Ryzarector come to pay your ass a visit
Local bio-chemical, universal giant, the black
general
Lickin shots to Davy Crockett on the bicentennial
Happen millenium two
thousand microchips two shots of penicillin
goes up your adrenalin son it's time for boutin
It's a mileage resemblin niggaz who like followin
Trapped inside your projects like a
genie inside the bottle
Verse Four: Master Killer
God steppin forth
upon holy down of the track
It's the sound that surrounds and hurts me like I'm under attack
So I decided to bite down on the mic
So the pain of the track won't deny the fact
That I'm the Master, for what lurks, is an expert
That hurts the individual who tries
to visual-ize under
Cuz I strike, like thunder
Niggaz couldn't stand my heat, it's
unbearable
My wisdom fucks up your respiratorial
Systems are fractured by the killa
tactics
Style is ragged and thoughts are mad jagged
Enter the entity, my vicinity
Is three hundred and sixty degrees of humidity
Represent the school of hard knocks
and glocks my
Clan is hoss and got mad moss for blocks so
Feel the force of impact
from the iron side of
The gat as I attack the track
From the blind side of the pack,
Starks pass the chrome
Watch a nigga get blown out his muthafuckin dome
piece,
deceased, laid to rest
Chorus
Verse Five: Ghostface Killer, a.k.a.
Tony Starks
Yo, aiyyo I got to serve them my way, move give me room
Holdin
up your saloon, clean sweep, like a broom
Full moons make me howl like a wolf outta breath
Sold only new vocal cords I heard Genius on Gef
So step back, to the lab at, high
velocity
My teammate, enhance cells well like a pharmacy
Fuck horado pablos plan
growas bravo
Goodfellas we know, best sellas become novels
The man rockin head
bands, silk scarves and jams
Early 80's british rock, playboys, mocks, and shams
The
laser beam vocalist does well at symphonies
Bad days, watch me snatch ice right outta
Tiffany's
Remember them kids that came off with 8 million
Robbed the Brinks and I
labelled in royal pavillions
Them flower heads must have been stupid
Tell me how the
fuck black niggaz get caught wit all that loot kid
That's jet money, undaground money
Submarines and rings too bad you fucked up dummies
Cosa cosa, come on | | | |
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