Luyện nghe bài hát Winter Warz

on
(Where sparkle at kid)

Yes, the shit is raw, comin' at door
Start to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's for more
Yes, the hour's four, I you before
Prepare for mic
(And the cold war)

This rhyme you digest the RZA console
Ask why I slam, non-diagram
Raekwon the bomb, Hunchback, Norte Dame
Golden is bronze, buddah palm hit Qu'ran
It blows extreme, mean stream be the
Supreme team, America's team, redeemed
Sassoon, chrome tones hear the moans of Al Capone
Gun POW to the

And the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alledged, full-fledged, sledge RZA
One dose of my feroc hand held cuts
Acapella spittin' paralyzed when you get touched
And critical, mic cords, hangin' like
Cords, dope swords, star general
Raw be the quote rap style sore
Through the operational, hand held tote

Yes, the shit is raw, comin' at your
You to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more

More than thousand times one, snatch up, my get done
I hold a title, enhanced how my was won, check it
Slick majestic, mics are left infected
Germs start to through your crew, drew like an epic
You asked for it, shot up the like syringes
My technique alone blows straight off the hinges
Masked Avenger, I appear to your ear like wind
With a freestyle, sharper than the Indian
So sit back and let the explore

Describe me, the kid's and he holds swords
And his name, black attack's the nerve like
With more than beggars on trains, livid sharp pains
Poisonous Rebel like Deck, you can't this
You get ambushed, skate, try to avoid
Side effects of, hot raps and hot
A bag full of guns son, dipped in black
My culture, slides and like a vulture
and Madison Square is on your poster

Yes, the shit is raw, comin' at door
You to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more
Yes, the hour's four, I you before
for mic fights
(And the cold war)

Be on the lookout for this mass murderous
That throws more body than apartments in projects
And as far as the coroners
The autopsy shows, it was a blow
Put on by my family to the academy
Of the Wu and how to

Fuck up anatomy, steadily, calm and deadly
Spatter-head lyrics I through your transmit
MC's submit to the will as I kill
Juvenile freestyle, civilize the
worship this like an icon
They're huggin mics the grips of a python

Yes, the shit is raw, comin' at your
to scream out loud, Wu-Tang's back for more

You heard of the rasp before but waiting
For the sun of song, I keep dancehalls
never worthy of my cause, I prolong, extravaganza, time sits still
No propaganda, be wary of the
As I forth the music, make love to your eardrum
to rap niggaz, beware of the fearsome
Lebanon Don, Malcolm X threat
CD massacre, to casette
I blow the shop up, you ain't seen yet
One man ran, tryin to get from it
Put your on, watch me I'm comin'
Into chamber like Freddy enter dreams
your technique and your scheme
Four course applause, a black dat to dat
stuck on stupid like I'm stuck on the map

Nowhere to go next show bro
motherfuckers can't stop O
In battlin', you want me to start tattlin'
All upon the stage because y'all keep rattlin'
Bitch, you ain't got nothin' on the
Every other day my whole code switch
So just in case you to clock me like Sherry
All y'all bitches ain't got to worry
get a nigga like Don dime a dozen
Even if I'm out I can't be scoped out
I'm too ill, I Park Hill
See my face on the twenty dollar
it in, and get ten dollars back
The fat LP with on the wax
it in your think, put valve up to twelve

Put all the other back on the shelf
And a blunt, and dial 9-1-7

And you can dick hip-hop affection
I damage any MC who in my direction
I'm Staten Island's best son fuck you heard
Niggaz still talkin that shit is
My is U.S.S.R.
P.L.O. got blown out the car
And ran over, by the Method Man
Divine can't define my is so deep
like pussy, my low cut fade bushy
Like a porcupine, I part backs a spine
Cut you like a blunt and your design
I know you want to diss me, but I can read your

'Cuz you weak in the knees SWV
Tryin' to get a title like Wu Bee
Kid change your habit, you know I'm with the Abbot
Me and RZA ridin name printed in the
vets, we paid our debts for mad years
Hibernate the sound, and now we out beers
And blunt power, born power speakin'
The truth in the song be the teachin'