Wu-tang Clan - Duck Season Lyrics
[raekwon the chef]Scrape yall mother*****ersThis is my word, when you see usWhen you see us flashing and shiningAnd building and adding onYall niggaz just watch it, hear meOnly ones that who we got respect forIs them niggaz that we say peace toHear me, pay attention, put your shoes onYo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm againPirahna niggaz bite dick, yo son, its on againWhat up, he made a move, try to assist itListen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but Im a bishopBack to the novel, you son, its logicalHow you figure god, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacleNow my proposal, its the globalFrom california to courts, its over god, so taste the tofuRemember baggy jeans, the timberlands in novemberShorty called me santa in decemberBut guess what, my wallys got messed upAutograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest upWe scrape that, land o lake thatMy dolo rapper get you sent backRepresent the gentlemens who bent thatFlash medallions like italiansLa costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a posterFlex this, lex and diamonds hold the settlementSo keep the bust the gun booLike that bad ass ***** in dead presidentsAdd on, the billboard sloanCheck it now, you get the gold dick awardIts like jail and its the sixth floorTest me, floating in the s.e., now lets seeHalf of yall niggaz built your rhyme from my sess treeFaggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a doboStay militant kid, push it like boloYou *****ing idiot, playing with my clan but you be fearing itFace one, Im guaranteed to make you take onePlease, yall niggaz money getting lowBut did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat doughTired of yall, mostly inspired by yallSo what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield downFaggot, ***** ***** around punk, battle for cream nigga[rza]You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swingI ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass ringsNo more said, knew your chump ass was deadWhen I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny foreheadIts wu-tang nigga, aint nothing changed niggaStill shame on a nigga, who tried to run gameGet virgin and perversions, *****ing *****es with persianBugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, its the surgeon slugsStill pounds when bobby steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chroniclesWe, held up in gotham take heed and protect your seedsWe fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquilityIn your rap utility to ***** with the abilitiesRaised like a sperm cell to the ovaryMicrophone post tone like a rotary phoneAge of poems and poetry, old sloansExplosive head bullets, black hoodedInvalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clipsAnd know how to put it in youSurrender your goods and your merchandiseFor no purchase price, Im certainly a heistFor your ice and curtains and viceCome quietly, wu-tang clan rules societyBecause of variety, so maintain your high anxietyAnd lead them to defy me, diary...I need 18 points for my next jointThis high and mointed king, to make a dealI be the one to appoint, steve ripken must have been sniffingTo catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits ***** drippingI ***** hundreds of *****es, and split millions of dollarsAnd built with thousands of scholarsMy life saga from the hildred of hororLegal kid brown in nicaraguaGave birth to mcs, seeds and bank robbersWe drove with pistol whips into world-wide tripsAnd my dicks been sucked by the finest lipsStand to tell the contestants, in the worlds best repressmentBut none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessonsOr my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest inEnter my dome get blown to 99 sections[method man]This rhyme has no limitations, this time theres no hesitationCollecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz its yoursThe flavors raw, what the ***** you think Im flowing forIts rhyme and reason, bite the bulletNiggaz is foul in this duck seasonWe add odds till we even mother*****erBad asses, high times, lower classesTaste mine, straight shots in dirty glassesBring it to him, room service, under pressureAnd mad nervous, waving guns at the clergyTicallion, we aint worriedKeep them sick niggaz seven-thirtyPicture this, watch the birdyThis bastards is rolling dirtyWith sharp pins that be stabbing youPins and needles, needles and pinsNuff said, dick in your mouthLike pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbredsDucking the feds[ghostface]Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard sonNiggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lordsThats right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weightFeed a fool, let the fake evaporateReconstruction, thats the whole science of mineProduction, yall niggas guess who stuck sonLeft his meth son, switch, finger itchStaring at you like a *****, maybe yall niggaz snitchYouse a loner, adidas shell top with lyeSipping corona, read the rev report then bone herBuy you some jewels, heres some foodNot neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analooWe in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the customBaggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customsChill, yall niggaz know what time it isJames bond beamers behind me, on bacardi lime andCheck out the pitch like nolan ryanHe cought a slug for lyingYeah you was lying, wheres the cash, cryingMilitia, rolling in positionCasa blanca cuban link christianLex the tally back whistling, fake *****s
