opiaterock
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2012
- Messages
- 708
And you lot said the Wu were pussies i beg to differ they got more talent in there Iced up pinky ring finger than most of you lot
Fukin Bitch Ass Nikkas
have some more for coming out with that bullshit you all just jealous that a load of black guy's from the hood are world famous
[video=youtube_share;sW-NdvOydCo]http://youtu.be/sW-NdvOydCo[/video]
Wu-Tang certainly ain't nuthin to fuck wit... and speaking of Cappadonna - his greatest verse and one of the best rap verses of all time ..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qo8DFMo6HXY
ou heard other raps before but kept waiting
For the Son of Song, I keep dancehalls strong
Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong
Extravangza, time sits still
No propaganda, be wary of the skill
As I bring forth the music, make love to your eardrum
Dedicated to rap nigga beware of the fearsome
Lebanon Don, Malcolm X beat threat
CD massacre, murder to cassette
I blow the shop up, you ain't seen nothing yet
One man ran, trying to get away from it
Put your bifocal on, watch me a-cometh
Into your chamber like Freddy enter dream
Discombumberate your technique and your scheme
Four course applause, like a black dat to dat
You're stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map
Nowhere to go except next show bro
Entertaining motherfuckers can't stop O
In battling, you don't want me to start tattling
All up on the stage cause y'all snakes keep rattling
Bitch, you ain't got nothing on the rich
Every other day my whole dress code switch
So just in case you want to clock me like Sherry
All y'all crab bitches ain't got to worry
Can't get a nigga like Don dime a dozen
Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out
I'm too ill, I represent Park Hill
See my face on the twenty dollar bill
Cash it in, and get ten dollars back
The fat LP with Cappachino on the wax
Pass it in your thing, put valve up to twelve
Put all the other LP's back on the shelf
And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7
1-6-0-4-9-3-11
And you could get long dick Hip Hop perfection
I damage any MC who step in my direction
I'm Staten Island's best son fuck what you heard
Niggas still talking that shit is absurd
My repertoire, is U.S.S.R
P.L.O. style got thrown out the car
And ran over, by the Method Man jeep
Divine can't define my style is so deep
Like pussy, my low cut fade stay bushy
Like a porcupine, I part backs like a spine
Gut you like a blunt and reconstruct your design
I know you want to diss me, but I can read your mind
Cos you weak in the knees, like SWV
Trying to get a title like Wu Killa Bee
Kid change your habit, you know I'm friends with the Abbott
Me and RZA Rob name printed in the tablet
Under vets, we paid our debts for mad years
Hibernate the sound, and now we out like bears
In Born Power, born physically, power speaking
The truth in the song be the pro-black teaching