Duck Season Lyrics

Duck Season lyrics

[Raekwon the Chef]

 Scrape y'all motherfuckers

 This is my word, when you see us

 When you see us flashing and shining

 And building and adding on

 Y'all niggaz just watch it, hear me

 Only ones that who we got respect for

 Is them niggaz that we say peace to

 Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on

 Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again

 Pirahna niggaz bite dick, yo Son, it's on again

 What up, he made a move, try to assist it

 Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop

 Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical

 How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle

 Now my proposal, it's the global

 >From California to courts, it's over God, so taste the tofu

 Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November

 Shorty called me Santa in December

 But guess what, my Wally's got messed up

 Autograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest up

 We scrape that, Land O' Lake that

 My dolo rapper get you sent back

 Represent the gentlemens who bent that

 Flash medallions like Italians

 La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a poster

 Flex this, Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement

 So keep the bust the gun Boo

 Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents

 Add on, the billboard sloan

 Check it now, you get the gold dick award

 It's like jail and it's the sixth floor

 Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see

 Half of y'all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree

 Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo

 Stay militant kid, push it like bolo

 You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it

 Face one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one

 Please, y'all niggaz money getting low

 But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough

 Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all

 So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down

 Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, battle for cream nigga

 

 [RZA]

 You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing

 I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings

 No more said, knew your chump ass was dead

 When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead

 It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga

 Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game

 Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian

 Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs

 still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles

 We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds

 We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility

 In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities

 Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary

 Microphone post tone like a rotary phone

 Age of poems and poetry, old sloans

 Explosive head bullets, black hooded

 Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips

 And know how to put it in you

 Surrender your goods and your merchandise

 For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist

 For your ice and curtains and vice

 Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society

 Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety

 And lead them to defy me, diary...

 I need 18 points for my next joint

 This high and mointed king, to make a deal

 I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing

 To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping

 I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars

 And built with thousands of scholars

 My life saga from the hildred of horor

 Legal kid brown in Nicaragua

 Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers

 We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips

 And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips

 Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment

 But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons

 Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in

 Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections

 

 [Method Man]

 This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation

 Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours

 The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for

 It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet

 Niggaz is foul in this duck season

 We add odds till we even motherfucker

 Bad asses, high times, lower classes

 Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses

 Bring it to him, room service, under pressure

 And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy

 Ticallion, we ain't worried

 Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty

 Picture this, watch the birdy

 This bastards is rolling dirty

 With sharp pins that be stabbing you

 Pins and needles, needles and pins

 Nuff said, dick in your mouth

 Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds

 Ducking the feds

 

 [Raekwon the Chef]

 Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son

 Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords

 That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight

 Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate

 Reconstruction, that's the whole science of mine

 Production, ya'll niggas guess who stuck son

 Left his meth son, switch, finger itch

 Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y'all niggaz snitch

 Youse a loner, Adidas shell top with lye

 sipping Corona, read the rev report then bone her

 Buy you some jewels, here's some food

 Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo

 We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom

 Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs

 Chill, y'all niggaz know what time it is

 James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and

 check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan

 He cought a slug for lying

 Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying

 Militia, rolling in position

 Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian

 Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks