Clan Wu-tang Older Gods Lyrics

Older Gods Lyrics

Verse One: Ghostface Killah







 Aiyyo I roll like a bat out of hell



 Evil acapell's fly spittin out of my grill



 Before I hit the sky with springtime colors



 Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads double dutch this



 They carve it in they wrist, pales berry blazes



 Straighten the crumbs left on the stove, clothes in my lady hair



 Plus yours the look gold God, the old tainted bald technique



 Got these vestibules designer niggaz in they whips



 jumpin out they seats, eighteen, Bronzeman Part II



 We like Dorothy Hamill on ice



 We in your hood we might circle, hats down low in the Range



 Switch lanes, change my tire, peel out



 Real loud on the stage yo, I shitted on your hood kid



 I shitted on your hood, got to your burner too late



 I'm lookin real good, draped out



 Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your girlfriend, c'mere



 Oh shit, you my man's niece, the gourmet pocket twenty



 bombs made of clay, Sexcapades take place



 We fucked in forty-eight shades might walk up in your studio



 time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to that style



 Hand me the matches now







 Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef







 Aiyyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this



 Niggaz bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana twist



 E shakes, puffin on lye, feedin the seed's plate



 Pullin out, old dirty eights to rob gates



 Major wake up, the kid telltales, make a nigga head wake up



 Beats break, the nigga would take off his time



 Honolulu status, gladdest



 the rich rock cabbage and dollar vans grands



 That nigga mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice



 Niggaz came clumped out



 Just came home, now they bunked out



 Money be longer than triple life



 til the sun burn out, that's my word



 Move it with the burner out



 Fidel way of thinkin, roll with the Mac bent Ac-10



 Most of my team, Five Percent check what the live said



 Rollin with Guess vests pedestrians yo



 holdin my nuts, fuckin thousand dollar lesbians







 [Ghost] Yo, the Older God put me on and had to rock this



 [both] Maintain Three-Sixty Lord live prosperous



 [Ghost] It only takes a lesson a day, just to analyze life



 [both] one time in the respectable mind



 (repeat 2X)







 Verse Three: The Genius/GZA







 Let the shot spark, soon as his pit bull barks



 Tire scars from skid marks leaves from jams in school parks



 Witness, forget his, original statement



 Even in protection programs there's no escapement



 Gunned down, we in town, hit king from seven crowns



 Spent rounds catch him while he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge



 Wounded, back in the eighty-three summer heat



 Up in three-oh-nine park, rhymin off the drummer's beat



 I stalk the city streets demonstratin mic wrecks



 All lookin stank, I ain't playin wit a full deck



 And as they nervously stare, I know they scared



 They saw the coming of Wu, the neon in Times Square



 Household name, assassin, killa bee



 Mill to the grain, that posess the Wu, trilogy



 Quick to spot those that bite camoflouge and blend



 Those that got styles, they got identical twins



 Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are finnicky



 without skills, they master the art of mimicry



 But I go line for line on the whole page



 Your unspotted life on the mic is old age







 *rocket fired, whistles off and explodes, breaking glass