{*beez buzzing*}
[Intro: Holocaust] West Coast, West Coast Killa Beez..
[Holocaust] Antlers, hammers and hacksaws The withered poetry of a man with no name, America Cement mixture fall upon an ice cream, Holocaust to many Greet with bloody handshake, Wu Empire and colleagues luxuriant You torn like tape off football helmet chip Four cups of crushed bricks, half cups of roses Smoke egg green and yellow candy cane Zombie still cooped in a cottage with orange teeth Pistol still pointed at the floor, spinal crunch Blood hits snow and heart, scoop it up in hand falls Bathe in the river, the waterfall runs red Sasquatch Yeti battalion with one head In the lonely place[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_a_Lonely_Place], dollars raises the marbles We break open forearms, Earth, the last hour Out in the D house, playing a hand of spades Fist-full of grenades, blow out the watch light Convicts rally at moonset, the last Clothes stay smoggy, old carnival wind chump Sideshow freaks, bellydancers and gypsies One of the woodcutters, village Architect Eighty eight sandwiches, thermos and a lunchbox In the 'Harsh Realm', viewing the Indo butterflies Fluttered, dined and mossed, off with dusty wings Bodies lay soaked in the desert, throats gouged out Chunks spittin' out of their hands, I had a purpose Will you still love me tomorrow? Architect Will you still love me tomorrow? Holocaust
[Timbo King] Royal Famous, blame us Yo
My first whip be a Chrysler So when you see me you say, "Chrys' is comin" Ice numbin ya neck, throw one of those Strong notes, Indian pose, flat footed Yo my back hearts, feel like them crumbled wings Bless by the Heaven kings, my crown piece seven rings Money to earn, money to burn Give some, lend some, take it, fuck it Be stingy off a stash if you have to Nigga, what? Flip a pack of if you have to Passion, pawn the shit, ya highest bidder Buy from the streets, cop at wholesale price Motel models, go tell five-oh Five-oh follow the black El Dorado
[Crisis] Who got that real shit niggaz blast to, bitches shake they ass to? Hit you up with the hood when we pass through Black Knights, Royal Fam got that hot shit (yo) Topless in the cockpit of my drop six .. in the cockpit of the drop six
[Meko the Pharaoh] Yeah, yo
Give me beats like this I start burnin Wack MC's, ya still learnin Just like punk cops that rotate on ya block Millions of people was gonna hear the North Stars shot While the worlds rock mental, I hold presidential Bare essentials, Wu-Tang credentials Makin niggaz catch wind chills when my N.S. wind build Niggaz better get real Even though I stay pissy drunk, run with Kurupt In a red mini van fed tinted, smokin on that spinach All funny niggaz get planted, I got that Long Beach shit like J. Bennett The rest of y'all niggaz sound like women Scared of my sword when it's given Y'all niggaz better stop pretendin Cuz the words like I'll speak, we'll keep 'em printed Kill or be killed is what I'm representin .. representin
[Cilvaringz] Yo, yo, check it, yo
As 7 clouds form the storm, I baffle Gabriel the archangel with death, death to his first born, Earth mourns Wu Killa Beez on the swarm From the battleship throw darts that be acrid We ninjas, we backflip with tactics of antrax Arise like the novice from earth under canvas Of the Clan, fist to fist, kamikaze shock this Like Nazi documents Apache Helicopters strike down near the bunker of the Glocksmiths Shop the Dirty Weaponry, Tecs from the 70's Gone With the Wind, I slung mines within My men tackle dikes with the 7 deadly dicks Neglect my covenant, my government enslaves you to my Hall o Double Justice and bloodstains your judgement, so prepare to be slain by the truth It's Blood for Blood When All Hell Breaks Loose son
Wu-Tang Killa Beez from Shaolin Europe Black Knights, Royal Fam It's Cilvaringz, one Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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