A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Wu-Tang Clan

"Men of Respect"

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Back with another one, this hip hop sh*t ain't over
The Wu brought it back I told you
Chef sh*t is hard
The hip hop critics is di*k heads, they'd rather see Shallah in the yard
Writing rhymes that's soft as cotton
We can never ever see that, the n*gga flow grows is poppin'
First verse I'll be ready to get clowns
Catch 'em in hallways, the worst look get laid down
And yo, I rhyme for shooters and boosters
Get money churchmen, all those respect my Wu sh*t
Regardless if you see me on TV
In 3D and HD, I'mma stay safe in Rae beats
This time I'm a bast*rd swordsman
Who put in that work, real quick then I'm repping to Boston
Don't try to get in my way
Any rapper any herb I'mma blow you like herbs and lick

[Verse 2: Eyes-Low]
f*ck a cell phone plan, with a ring I get a hundred dollars
Five dubs in a whip on my way to holler
Yeah I do credits, but not the ones you get in college
My n*ggas can't afford Benzes, so we rip impalas
Tints on the windows, lookin' like the Ds
Got the dope boys nervous when they see me in the street
f*ck the hollering on wax, you can see me if it's beef
Hollywood will load the gat and put the BBs in his fleece
I'm a preacher with the piece
I used to sell X on the west coast, now I get it cheaper on the east
I've been around the world like Lisa Stansbury
TV with the goosenecks, goosenecks to the cranberry
Got the Clan ready with the 10 Chevy, keep my grams heavy
Slap a b*tch ass, doggy style, like my hand's heavy
G up in my swag, tough talk'll get your man buried
Blow the last dragon, part two, n*gga, fists of fury

[Verse 3: Bad Luck]
I could care less if you're well know shooters
100 guns, 100 clips, but you still can't move
It's been a while since you heard a nice n*gga from BK
Representin' the village, known for lettin' this heat spray
First grip we flipped took like a weekend, 3 days
Whole team runnin' 'round the Ps with AKs
9 different types of drugs, slipping 'em 5 ways
Gettin' rid of a brick in less than five days
I pop your head off, leave your brains on the sidewalk
My 40 cal, a rearrange to your sidetalk?
Where I go, my team, they gonna follow
Top Model hoes, with no game, they gonna swallow
Got a lotta foes, that's why my aim be on hollow
Die before I let you violate, n*gga, live by the motto
Pimpin' through lanes, poppin' the clutch, hittin' the throttle
At this rate, I'm gonna miss it, I might not witness tomorrow

[Hook]
You say you gangsta? Yeah I'm a gangsta
You pop that thang? yeah I pop that thang
Your clip on empty? My clip on empty
Your clique gon bang? Yeah my clique gon bang

[Verse 4: Method Man]
Look, I hit a weed spot
Bypass n*ggas with broke guns and cheap shots
Outlastin' n*ggas with no punch, y'all eat c*ck
Get too c*cky, the heat c*ck
You wanna walk a mile in my shoes, you need socks
You need not call out a G, cause he's not
They playin' with a pus*y, I'ma show 'em the G spot
This dude's a Meth-head, I'll show him the detox
Look at Johnny with his old ass
I'm still schoolin' the whole class
The kids in the hall, you get no pass
Ice hit the eye like a cold flash
n*ggas hopin' I don't spaz
Speak for the have-nots and don't-haves
f*ck it, I'm thorough n*gga, f*ck their worlds
Meth clutch the mic, b*tch n*ggas clutch their pearls
Tonight, I ain't feelin' no ice stares
If you want it, I'm right here, Staten Island and we don't fight fair

[Verse 5: Cappadonna]
As a young lil' homie, I used to sell crack
I used to run in the front of the building and come out the back
Lil homie on the block with the fly ass gear
Me and my crew used to shop around Union Square
Ay yo, I never knew I would become an MC
Now everybody on the block be amazed at me
Because I rock the mic most definitely
Throw darts and I get fly on you, you know my steez
Buy 25 high?, yo, I stay low key
And if I have to pop something, yo, it's not my fault
I ain't tell y'all n*ggas try to crack my vault
I'm the new terrorist rapper, the main assault
You ? on your back, elbow a n*gga thought
Through Wu-Tang lyrical kung-fu
Death when you enter, all my n*gga will hunt you
Peace to the gods
One, two, one, two

[Verse: Termanology]
Million dollar voice box
It's your choice, Ox
The face Ox cut off
Like tank tops
My motivation is money and mass murdering
While you still provin' you nice in rap tournaments
I be all smooth with the ice and mad burners
And plottin' on takin' your life
Look how I lure them in
Get drunk, smoke ashes up out the urn again
Axe murderin' journalist for the words they writ
Mathematics crafted the beat, called Term to spit
Cause I set fire to sh*t like a furnace lit
I pack German clips, stash box in the whip
Four door Optimus Prime, Transformer sh*t
Call the coroner, caskets for half price
Bodies in the trunk, movin' through the Mass Pike
It's all now, cause in Law town
We roll with premature babies
We carry four pounds

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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