Knuckleheadz (Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... 1995)

Текст песни Raekwon feat Ghostface Killah, U-God - Knuckleheadz (Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... 1995)

[Intro: Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, U-God]
Let me— Let me hold that
One for you, one for me (True)
Two for you,  one— two for me
What?
Three for you
Nigga get— get the— Man, I'll smack— (Fuck is— out of here with all that shit)
Smack fire out your fucking ass
What the fuck you think this is, man?
Get the fuck up out of here man (Chill, chill)
So, yo, matter of fact, the man is back (Stick this man head out over a fucking fire!)
Shit, alright— This ain't even enough bread right here, this ain't enough
We going to shoot right over there (Fuck that man, yo)
And, yo, them niggas got the big cream over there, just chill (Alright, let's get this cash, and move nigga)
Spark it, right out the tropical, kid
Alright, don't play me like I got a flowerpot head, kid (*Loading clip*), on the real, man
Just chill, let's go get this money fast, son
I know how we got to do this, kid (*Gunshots*), trust this (Alright, scrungy-head motherfuckers)

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Lay on the crime scene, sipping fine wines, pulling nines on
UFOs, taking they fly clothes, they eyes closed
We getting loot, no doubt, check the word of mouth
Unheard about, guns go off and now a murder route
I'm out, my raps play the part like a Get Smart secret agent
In a maze and style's blazing
Johnny Blaze and Tony Starks in the Days Inn
And Rhyming, my nigga Lou Diamond with Robert F
We like Meth to go and fuck with Noodles
Having them poodles on the lockdown, buying me
Amarettos and chewables, smacking pharmaceutical
Rap niggas on dust and woos
Yo, I told you some killed, robbed and fold
The goal's untold, fuck it, it beats parole
So stroll marvelous, soul controller of the globe blow
Goddamn, I got it sewn and yo
What up wop? Pop the suitcase high and we can talk
You can walk out the fucking building and get caught
Save the fully inflatable, rap relatable
Drug relatable, niggas here to play with you
A hundred dollar Rottweiler, go to spot sellers
Guns and Glocks for them niggas who got props
Off top jail niggas get mad bigger and yo
Mail a guy about a hundred pictures
Word to mama, this rap wonder rhymer team got drama
Comma, blunt smoke real-ass marijuana
Chef Maranzano boats across the Verrazano
Immaculate, bust off my gun so accurate
And get cream in the cuisine of Queens
I told you, money skated with night beams and two rings
[Interlude: Raekwon & Ghostface Killah]
Crazy fag, I'm getting ready to do this shit (Sniff mad shit)
Man, niggas know not to step on this shit

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Who's the knucklehead wanting respect?
Chop his fingers in the drug game, money well-known
Lead singer, humdinger, flash is the aftermath, here's his photograph
Run up in his lab, take off the mask, Chas, and think fast
Don't laugh, bag the cash, grab the hash, don't forget his stash
Grab the tear gas and place it in his face fast
At full blast (*Speeding car passing*)
Then skate to the next gate further upstate
I heard they got crazy weight bagged up by the cakes in
Crates like disco breaks, yo look out for jakes
Give it all it takes, let's burn the place before we motivate
Yo, Blake, nigga, don't fake, rape his mate
If the bitch scream, for God's sake grab the grey tape
It's by the plate with the blow crushed up with the flakes
Killer snakes, four bodies found floating in lakes
Drug related paper talking about the kids who didn't make it
Hits without a trace, never seen the bricks, see Rae and Ghostface
Congratulations, Chef, let's celebrate and sniff an eighth (*Tires screeching*)

[Verse 3: U-God]
The rap scar is on, rap Parmesan, poke on, put it on, seal it on
We're silicone, spark it on your talkathon
This rap phenomenon to correspond took the arms
Hit me on the hip and horns, rap chaperone
Scars, tones, bar thrown, war tones, raw tones
Blowing out their jawbones, but your rap's fraudulent
Plug in these rap coordinates, it's reinforced with suspense
Be on your rap sword defense
These microphone professional, sensational, fully operational
I got niggas here to play with you, you know the steez
You know my whole program, brothers from the no-lands
All we want is the G's, guns and grams
Living fat like the Hoffa, mafia, sipping, eating pastas
Laying in the house telling the seeds about the sagas
Before we got dramatic and thoughts got sporadic
We grabbed golden tablets and quick guarded the Abbots
Slugs hit the Pelle, punch hopes into the belly
Suckers tried to knock me out the box like Skelly
I smoke the weed trees, I drop top to the breeze
Honey dip spending G's on nails and hair weave
The crime boss taking no loss, excessive force
We can play the A-Train back of the iron horse
[Outro: Raekwon, Ghostface Killah]
Yo, man, you know what I'm saying?
Fuck it, man (*Tires screeching*, *car crashing*)
(*Car crashing*)