Wu-tang Clan - Slow Blues lyrics

[Intro: Timbo King (Prodigal Sunn) {Byata}] Yeah, get my voice, get the clarity (Sunzini the flame) {Let me drop a little something hot, what?} Yeah (Yo turn my vocals up son) {Yeah, turn my voice up} Brooklyn, Bo King... yeah... {All my Russians come on} I gotta pull out the guitar on this one. [Vast Aire] I'm Vast Aire... I'm like Ali, better yet Joe Louis I will push my hands through you, I don't need bullets Show me the signal, let's flow I be outside with 30 n***az ready to go We shine when we rhyme, so I'm, ready to glow I liked to helm shows, I'm ready to sow Pa** me the needle, you get the cloth Kunta'll get the thread, and we'll all break bread This is the true birth of a prince When I die, this song will be a footprint I be back with the essence in an instant I heard about Ason, and burnt an incense Life's ill, don't get it pretzled I can't show you, but I'll leave a stencil I'm talking about what matters, not figures I'm pointing at the moon, and you looking at my finger [Byata] Come correct me, and I really give a f** Who won't accept me, you see? I gotta do this for the underground, broke it down Coney Isle, BK to Uptown, yeah, they gonna know me now I'm up in the kitchen cooking up some hot sh** Ask your boy Raekwon, he gonna tell you how I spit Yeah, Byata live it, it's a hustle every day I'm on the grind, try'nna see this, milion' kay-vay But I stay shining, catch me when I'm up in the scene Rocking the cell plus roots, now your delf, ya silk screens Yeah, gorilla style, don't make me have to wild out With the, surrealer, for realer, clap you, and come tell bout Making moves, paying dues on the evening news The Russian lifestyle, b**hes, we let them lose Now give me another blast of that green Til I get open and I'm nasty with the sixteen They don't even know what's coming Til them got them rubbing off the rooster Chick from C.I., to Brighten Beach, yea, we Russian sick What? Yeah, we Russian sick, uh, yeah, the chick is sick [Timbo King] I'm Young Abraham, in front of the projects puffing If I, honor myself, then my honor is nothing Even a spirit of evil, in the veins of a junkie Pay peanuts and you get monkeys Honkey see, honkey do, yeah, Yacub the foul serpent Amongst crack dealers, street merchants, Bo King Yeah, flows from out of my mouth Up North, Down South, yeah, I'm never without Extra heat, on some black burner, semi a**ault Buccaneer, yeah I'm bucking near holes in your port Cuz, you ain't bustin' nothing, that's studio edits Who doing the shooting, your engineer, get all the credit So while you busting shots in a four hour session I'll be aiming at cops in the name of oppression Mack one to the second power, clap off end I can hit anything up close or far away Spray lead at the governor's head, cuz he don't wanna Break bread with the slaves that never been fed [Prodigal Sunn] One for my son's money, two for the show Three, I gets busy, four; I'm out the door, bro Five, the click get live, the Sunn don't die Blaze that haze in the East, that purple gush on the Westside Tech vests with the metal slides, from rebel Bedstuy I do or die, high and on the ride This revolution will be televised, through mics, I'm mesmerized Sight spies, small fries, living lies Destined to flame, will get you blowned out the f**ing frame I don't bang, but I will let that evil reign Never catch me tucking the chain, I'm gutter grain That's word to mutha, main, sustained in this f**ing game Yeah, he shines like aluminum foil, make the mic boil Ladies and gentleman, introducing, I'm loyal Blood lines royal, hood raised never spoiled I'm quick to bury a snake, Jake, breathe the soil Twist that backwood berry croyal Taste the green as it broil, and watch it burn like oil That independent who stays major, rule one, about my paper It all started on the block with small cash capers A force of nature, my moms and pops ain't no gla** makers And if I see you on some sh**; I'm a fair shaker I let it out like Sharon Vegas, serving traitors Y'all n***az now I shine across the equator