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 back for
Yes, the hour's four, I told you
for mic fights
(And plus the war)

This rhyme you through the RZA console
Ask why I slam, pole
Raekwon dropped the bomb, Hunchback, Dame
Arms is bronze, buddah palm hit Qu'ran
It blows extreme, mean stream be the
Supreme team, America's CREAM team,
Vidal Sassoon, 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 hand held trigga cuts
Acapella shell paralyzed when you get touched
And critical, mic cords, like umbilical
Cords, dope swords, star general
Raw be the quote rap sore throat
Through the operational, hand held tote

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

More than thousand times one, up, my styles get done
I hold a title, how my belt was won, check it
Slick majestic, broke mics are infected
Germs start to spread through your crew, like an epic
You asked for it, shot up the jams like
My technique alone doors straight off the hinges
Masked Avenger, I appear to blow your ear wind
With a freestyle, than the Indian spear
So sit back and let the king

Describe me, the kid's and he holds swords
And his name, attack's the nerve like migraines
With more games than on trains, livid sharp pains
Poisonous Rebel like Deck, you destroy this
You get ambushed, skate, try to this
Side effects of, hot raps and hot
A duffle bag full of guns son, dipped in
My culture, slides and attacks a vulture
Ghostface and Madison Square is on poster

Yes, the shit is raw, comin' at your
You start to scream out loud, back for more
Yes, the hour's four, I told you
Prepare for mic
(And plus the war)

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

Fuck up your anatomy, steadily, and deadly
Spatter-head lyrics I lick your transmit
MC's submit to the will as I your
Juvenile freestyle, the mentail
Devils this like an icon
They're mics with the grips of a python

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

You heard of the rasp but kept waiting
For the sun of song, I keep dancehalls
Beats never worthy of my cause, I prolong, extravaganza, time still
No propaganda, be wary of the
As I forth the music, make love to your eardrum
Dedicated to rap niggaz, beware of the
Don, Malcolm X beat threat
CD massacre, murder to
I blow the up, you ain't seen nothin' yet
One man ran, to get away from it
Put your bifocal on, watch me I'm
Into your chamber Freddy enter dreams
Discombumberate technique and your scheme
course applause, like a black dat to dat
You're stuck on like I'm stuck on the map

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

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

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

you weak in the knees like SWV
Tryin' to get a like Wu Killa Bee
Kid change your habit, you know I'm with the Abbot
Me and RZA name printed in the tablet
Under vets, we paid our for mad years
Hibernate the sound, and now we out like
And blunt power, born physically power
The truth in the song be the pro-black