The W * Lyrics

The W *

* track 13 on non-US versions of the album

[GZA (RZA)]
I grew up around block parties ready to rock
Behind the rope nigga with my rhymes on cock
The verse shot first nigga who had sh*t 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**kers
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**ked 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, bit*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*t off, whips spin off
Get off, slips, which, wiz
Mind di-tects mines, lines lick sick nines
Pick wines, lift up, bill a nigga six flies
Dip wide, dress my sh*t up, f**k six times, wish mine
Rub lamps, take thousand dollar crystalines

[Chorus]