Wu-Tang Clan – Rushing Elephants

Wu-Tang Clan
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исполнитель Wu-Tang Clan

длительность 03:01

размер 7.36 MB

битрейт 255 kbps

загружено Фет

Rushing Elephants
[Intro: Raekwon] Yo, yo, yo, what up kid? Yo, these niggaz is back, son (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) I'm telling you, spit that, done it nigga Yeah... yeah... yeah, yeah, I seen it like a Zenith, man You hear me man? Word up, man, ya'll know what it is It's on again, man, for real, Top Gun, what what [Raekwon] Aiyo, we came through thumping like elephants The new Range is super-charged, I remains intelligent Back to the formula, lord, hard grammar This is God school, make sure the lobby ain't jammed up Excalibur swords, T-Rexes, bibles of rhymes We in the lunchroom, weed and veggies for breakfast Polo campus, sicker lances, the crisp Hundred dollar kick niggas, that be showing you hand steps Back to the dormatory, where niggas Broke my forearm and index finger, now you write glory True holding my flag, it's all engraved in my blade So when I wave it, you gon' say Rae mad Now it's 28 Days Later, now Wu's up, do something, you can't It's blood in my eye, I might get amped To rip something down, the billboard holders is back So when you see me, you gon' say he gets down [GZA] From darkness to DNA, I move with my brother And we resonate, energy that shifts in colors Bringing MC's punishment, then I'm done with it The meter leave way on the fast break, I run with it It was not a hobby, but a childhood passion That had started in the lobby and was quicky fashioned Every line to line, bar for bar is clockwork Hazardous and powerful enough to have your block hurt Check the total amount of MC's inflicted With torture, from moving with work that's restricted We criticize producers til they joints are right Then acupuncture the track with pinpoints of light Hitting them from well conceiled firing positions With explosiveness that'll make the deaf listen Drastic, pyroclastic, connected with the same old Down the dangerous slopes of an active volcano [RZA] Blitz like the Green Bay Packers, sack like the linebackers Hang with niggas, like redneck crackers Strangle cold bottles of Beck's, like a vexed German Duck low behind the car, my tech burning Neck burning, from eight karats of sunlight Absorbed, in the grill, Big Pun like Lord of the Wu-Tang sword, know what that means? Like J.R. Tolkien, it's the Lord of the Rings This is my man, Chef, auto, like Grand Theft Auto The 18th letter, followed by the mark of Zorro Plus A, not for apple, but I pack an apple Shorty try to buck back, and knock me off the saddle Caramel, pecan, sundae, Pregline Plump breasts, was filled with saline Her big booty cousin, nasty Nadine Get you on the floor, whore tried to double team [Masta Killa] Is he still that nucca? Is he in the hood like that? Is he really strapped? Will he really split yo' shit? I thought you said he rap? Pull up in the yard, ten sets He ain't flexing, microphone ripping, heat holding Who testing? Rope-a-dope his black lotus Can't quote this, chat with the sword tongue Duck when the axe is swinging, wild Apache drum Crazy Horse kicking his thoughts, he won't quit Can't tell 'em nothing, he grown, give the man room Space was demanded, beat banging through the speaker Voice, heat seek missle, guided at the listener Swing to the gospel, catch up and wet at the brothel Unstoppable, direction of my flow, optional To the ear, depending on the current of air, the crowd's in
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