Wu-tang Clan - Knuckle Up lyrics

[Raekwon] We slang kilos, eighths to them shorties, bring G loads A paper to the hood, we got you, cop three of those And get your hustle right, whether you a trapper Or a gun clapper, make sure your weapon is hype We got all kinds of shooters, sprayers, pitchers n***a who hit playa, catch you in ya gators Haters that love rockin n***a for bread, lead fly Hit in you back of your head, he gettin dough, all that's dead now Yo, no more hallucinatin, we just used to hatin Go 'head and violate, we murder clicks, who you takin? Not none of us! You know my gun'll bust And every town state, n***as pull they guns for us And peel somethin up, and k** somethin up We "Go Hard" like Tennessee boys, hit 'em up We get it every day and, it's like a matinee and We on the block hard, Allah said "Rae, you made it" It's time to take it over, it ain't a safe promoter Out there, give me my change or get thrown in the Rover [D.C.] It's Donnie, I get lots of bread, though as far as that block I got it locked, like a rasta's dreads And I will infra-beem dot ya head, put a couple of shots Inside your top, tryna stop my spread f** cops, I just watch for feds Cause I know they be hatin on how I'm cakin Want me boxed or dead I move with birds by the flock, instead - D.C I keep whoopin, keep cookin, 'til the pots is red Keep pushin, I don't stop at reds, f** a red light It's red light specials, when I pop that lead I can even make a boxer beg, catch ya pops in bed Pop his legs, while you watch him beg The name's Donnie, I was mobster bred, so you know I'm a don Plus I was born with that shottas edge I keep that chopper filled with copperheads, I bust a couple of shots It'll leave a couple coppers dead And you can run a couple blocks ahead, and won't get away Unless you wore some sh** today that blocks ya head ... [Pimp C] Huh, step up yo' game, you off the square (square) You can't be a pimp just cause you got long hair (hair) 'Lacs don't make macks, AK's don't make k**as Scary n***as shoot first, if you a G, it's a curse (curse) +Last of a Dying Breed+ like Brad JORDAN Pimp C, b**h! Words nuts and my foreign If I say it in the streets, I'll say it to ya face Knock ya whole muthaf**a off, take my case Never give up my connects, never hit P.C I'm a young f**in HOG! b**h, +The Game Belong to Me+ Dick ain't free, f** a promo show You ain't got fifty thousand cash, b**h, f** the radio! (beyatch!) f** BET and f**, Diana Ross Shut the f** up, old b**h! Slim THUG is the BOSS (BOSS) J. Prince the Godfather, DJ Screw is the King Bought my dick, a Cadillac, got'cho advance in my pinky rang, BEEEEE-YATCH!!! (In my pinky rang, BEEEEE-YATCH!!!) BEEEEE-YATCH!!!...Sweet Jones, BEE-YATCH!! Hol' up, motherf**er! Motherf**er, smoke sum'hin, BEE-YATCH!! Trademark, knahmtalkinbout?