Nabízeno v
Nejlepší skladby od interpreta Wu-Tang
Kredity
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Wu-Tang
Künstler:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
RZA
Produzent:in
Mathematics
Produzent:in
Jamey Zebrack
Mischtechniker:in
Josh Gannet
Mischtechniker:in
Texty
[Verse 1]
Yeah
Music is life
I ain't into fashion or ice
I ain't in the chain snatching
Ain't in the smackin' the wife
If they ain't support it
Don't ever ask 'em the price
If you knew you can't afford it
You better ask an advice
Stick to the point if I ever have me a knife
Y'all gats better hope I don't never have me a lights
Meth
Not the type you do in the pipe
But the type when you feel
That you know I'm doin it right
You know I spit it
But hate to love to admit it
They criticizing them lyrics
Guess err'body's a critic, look
I pushed the limit
While rappers is pushing gimmicks
Like music to push my bending
And then add it and took the premise hook
Y'all
Still talk about it and I still live it
Underground without a shovel
I'm still diggin'
It's always been about the struggle
Y'all just didn't get it
My hood trouble
If you don't live it, then don't visit
[Verse 2]
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
**** to the frost
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 3]
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
**** to the frost
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 4]
(And do you know the penalty for that?)
(What penalty?)
(The penalty is death and there is no alternative)
[Verse 5]
Color me bad
Face emerge, blood in the bath
Switchblade, quick raid
Drugs on the glass
Ugly villains
Hunchback, gun for the killin'
Suitcase, FBI plant a bug on the millions
Shoot outs, hang-gliders on the train ride
Mafia's assassins, cocaine's inside
Fat man with the pinky ring laughing
Moving is static
Through traffic
The hot spot's called The Dragon
His head's bald
Enemies a mob
His hands are claws
Cigars lit, targets
It's a hit
His broad is fit
With the largest tits
Through the fog they sit
Helicopters over Nicaragua
Scuba divers, dick for lobster
The zoo of tigers, pits and jaguars
The bets, Nascar
Threats, Nassau
Fools where wires
And shooters was hired
Pop pop
[Verse 6]
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
****
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 7]
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
**** to the frost
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 8]
Like the shaolin of sound
Impound grounds like mountains bouncing
Be the largest ****, pounds or ounces
Well rounded
Like first is my verse's birth
Inertia converges
Surge hurt and burn ya
Philosophical spit particles
Sun chronicle
Known to bust a clip and swift kick
Without your opticals
In the hopper two
I spit particles
Follicles real
Punches hit with nautical drifts
Spark up the spliff
Great samurai
Manurai strikes clean
And it sanitize
You fantasize
Real coulda show it more for Panama
Bronx symphony stomp lyrically
Chomp MC's
Burn my, wouldn't even give you ****
My sympathies
Feelin' me, said you feelin' me
You **** feel the heat
Braveheart or you leave the party
Like Hulk's enemies
Marvel, marvelous
My art is bliss
If you ain't the nicest
You a target, bitch
Chris
[Verse 9]
(We the first **** that did this)
(I don't give a fuck what nobody say)
[Verse 10]
Bring it back a little bit
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
**** to the frost
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 11]
Most of us poppin pain
Selling drugs in the rain
I don't sweat money
**** to the frost
Make money, maintain
And build me a train
Rollin' buddha
Ice cooler, Grey Goose
And the big Ruger
[Verse 12]
(It's quite unnecessary and rude)
(and you deserve to be punished)
(Well I'd like to see you try that)
(You think you're just going to walk out?)
(It isn't going to be quite so easy)
(He who kills will be killed)
(Those who kill will have to be killed)
(Well, what now?)
Written by: Adrian Utley, Beth Gibbons, Bill Conti, Christopher West, Corey Woods, D. Almer, Geoff Barrow, James "Bimmy" Antney, Ricky M.L. Walters, Shelly Conti
