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Testi Raekwon the Chef - Wu Gambinos
Testi-musica-canzoni.it > Testi lettera R > Raekwon the Chef > Only Built 4 Cuban Linx - Wu GambinosIntro:  
  
 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
- Easton Sheena
Nome Album : Do You - Bon Jovi
Nome Album : Unknown - Pat Benatar
Nome Album : Very Best Of - Crimson Thorn
Nome Album : Unknown - Jay Z
Nome Album : Jay Z-I just died in your armes