歌曲 | Incarcerated Scarfaces |
歌手 | Raekwon |
专辑 | The RZA Hits |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Intro:[lp version] | |
He looks determined without being ruthless | |
Something heroic in this man, there's a courage about him | |
Doesn't look like a killer | |
Comes across so calm, acts like he has a dream | |
Full of passion | |
You don't trust me huh? | |
Well you know why | |
I do, we're not supposed to trust anyone in our profession anyway | |
Intro two: raekwon the chef | |
Knock niggaz out the box all the time | |
Bitches on my motherfuckin records pah | |
Big ones, yeah, big fuckers | |
Straight up, fuck your whole team | |
Yeah bust it | |
Yo, yo, fly g.i. niggaz | |
Chorus: raekwon the chef | |
Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out | |
It's for real though, let's connect politic - ditto! | |
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases | |
Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces | |
Verse one: raekwon the chef | |
Thug related style attract millions | |
Fans, they understand my plan | |
Who's the kid up in the green land? | |
Me and the rza connect, blow a fuse, you lose | |
Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised | |
Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin | |
Shuttin down your slot; time for pumpin | |
Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps | |
Raise a heavy generator | |
But yo, guess who's the black trump? | |
Dough be flowin by the hour's | |
Wu, we got the collars, scholars | |
Word life, peace to power and my whole unit | |
Word up! quick to set it, don't wet it | |
Real niggas lick shots, peace kinetic | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: raekwon the chef | |
Chef'll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable | |
Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue | |
But this time is for the uninvited | |
Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired | |
Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine | |
Niggaz recognize from here to baltimore to fort greene | |
But hold up, moet be tastin like throw-up | |
My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up | |
Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit timbs | |
Wit mac-10's and broke friends | |
Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do | |
You wanna battle for cash and see who sun too? | |
I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax | |
Niggaz lyrics is wack nigga | |
Can't stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin scud missles | |
You rollin like trump, you get your meat lumped | |
For real, it's just slang rap democracy | |
Here's the policy, slide off the ring, plus the wallabees | |
Check the status, soon to see me at | |
Caesar's palace eatin salads | |
We beatin mics and the keys to dallas | |
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell | |
From where we at to my man's cell | |
From staircase to stage, minimun wage | |
But soon to get a article in rappage | |
But all i need is my house, my gat, my ac | |
Bank account fat - it's goin' down like that | |
And pardon the french but let me speak italian | |
Black stallion, dwellin on shaolin | |
That means the island of staten | |
And niggaz carry gats and mad police from manhattan | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: raekwon the chef | |
I do this for barber shop niggaz in the plaza | |
Catchin asthma, rae is stickin gun-flashers | |
Well-dressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones | |
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one | |
Upstairs, swithc like a chameleon | |
Hip brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children | |
Leave the buildin | |
Niggas, yo they be foldin' like envelopes under pressure | |
Like lou farigno on coke | |
Yo, africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs | |
Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the arabs | |
Sit back, coolin like kahlua's on rocks | |
On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots | |
You bitches who fuck dreds on sudafeds | |
Pussy's hurtin, they did it for a yard for the feds | |
Word up cousin, nigga, i seen it | |
Like a 27-inch zenith - believe it! | |
Chorus | |
...politic ditto | |
...get lifted in the staircases |
Intro: lp version | |
He looks determined without being ruthless | |
Something heroic in this man, there' s a courage about him | |
Doesn' t look like a killer | |
Comes across so calm, acts like he has a dream | |
Full of passion | |
You don' t trust me huh? | |
Well you know why | |
I do, we' re not supposed to trust anyone in our profession anyway | |
Intro two: raekwon the chef | |
Knock niggaz out the box all the time | |
Bitches on my motherfuckin records pah | |
Big ones, yeah, big fuckers | |
Straight up, fuck your whole team | |
Yeah bust it | |
Yo, yo, fly g. i. niggaz | |
Chorus: raekwon the chef | |
Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out | |
It' s for real though, let' s connect politic ditto! | |
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases | |
Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces | |
Verse one: raekwon the chef | |
Thug related style attract millions | |
Fans, they understand my plan | |
Who' s the kid up in the green land? | |
Me and the rza connect, blow a fuse, you lose | |
Halfass crews get demolished and bruised | |
Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin | |
Shuttin down your slot time for pumpin | |
Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps | |
Raise a heavy generator | |
But yo, guess who' s the black trump? | |
Dough be flowin by the hour' s | |
Wu, we got the collars, scholars | |
Word life, peace to power and my whole unit | |
Word up! quick to set it, don' t wet it | |
Real niggas lick shots, peace kinetic | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: raekwon the chef | |
Chef' ll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable | |
Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue | |
But this time is for the uninvited | |
Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired | |
Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine | |
Niggaz recognize from here to baltimore to fort greene | |
But hold up, moet be tastin like throwup | |
My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up | |
Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit timbs | |
Wit mac10' s and broke friends | |
Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do | |
You wanna battle for cash and see who sun too? | |
I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax | |
Niggaz lyrics is wack nigga | |
Can' t stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin scud missles | |
You rollin like trump, you get your meat lumped | |
For real, it' s just slang rap democracy | |
Here' s the policy, slide off the ring, plus the wallabees | |
Check the status, soon to see me at | |
Caesar' s palace eatin salads | |
We beatin mics and the keys to dallas | |
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell | |
From where we at to my man' s cell | |
From staircase to stage, minimun wage | |
But soon to get a article in rappage | |
But all i need is my house, my gat, my ac | |
Bank account fat it' s goin' down like that | |
And pardon the french but let me speak italian | |
Black stallion, dwellin on shaolin | |
That means the island of staten | |
And niggaz carry gats and mad police from manhattan | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: raekwon the chef | |
I do this for barber shop niggaz in the plaza | |
Catchin asthma, rae is stickin gunflashers | |
Welldressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones | |
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one | |
Upstairs, swithc like a chameleon | |
Hip brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children | |
Leave the buildin | |
Niggas, yo they be foldin' like envelopes under pressure | |
Like lou farigno on coke | |
Yo, africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs | |
Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the arabs | |
Sit back, coolin like kahlua' s on rocks | |
On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots | |
You bitches who fuck dreds on sudafeds | |
Pussy' s hurtin, they did it for a yard for the feds | |
Word up cousin, nigga, i seen it | |
Like a 27inch zenith believe it! | |
Chorus | |
... politic ditto | |
... get lifted in the staircases |
Intro: lp version | |
He looks determined without being ruthless | |
Something heroic in this man, there' s a courage about him | |
Doesn' t look like a killer | |
Comes across so calm, acts like he has a dream | |
Full of passion | |
You don' t trust me huh? | |
Well you know why | |
I do, we' re not supposed to trust anyone in our profession anyway | |
Intro two: raekwon the chef | |
Knock niggaz out the box all the time | |
Bitches on my motherfuckin records pah | |
Big ones, yeah, big fuckers | |
Straight up, fuck your whole team | |
Yeah bust it | |
Yo, yo, fly g. i. niggaz | |
Chorus: raekwon the chef | |
Now yo yo, whattup yo, time is runnin out | |
It' s for real though, let' s connect politic ditto! | |
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases | |
Word up, peace incarcerated scarfaces | |
Verse one: raekwon the chef | |
Thug related style attract millions | |
Fans, they understand my plan | |
Who' s the kid up in the green land? | |
Me and the rza connect, blow a fuse, you lose | |
Halfass crews get demolished and bruised | |
Fake be frontin, hourglass heads niggaz be wantin | |
Shuttin down your slot time for pumpin | |
Poisonous sting which thumps up and act chumps | |
Raise a heavy generator | |
But yo, guess who' s the black trump? | |
Dough be flowin by the hour' s | |
Wu, we got the collars, scholars | |
Word life, peace to power and my whole unit | |
Word up! quick to set it, don' t wet it | |
Real niggas lick shots, peace kinetic | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: raekwon the chef | |
Chef' ll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable | |
Real niggaz raise up, spend your money, argue | |
But this time is for the uninvited | |
Go head and rhyme to it, big nigga mics is gettin fired | |
Morphine chicks be burnin like chlorine | |
Niggaz recognize from here to baltimore to fort greene | |
But hold up, moet be tastin like throwup | |
My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up | |
Ya never had no wins, slidin in these dens wit timbs | |
Wit mac10' s and broke friends | |
Ya got guns, got guns too, what up son, do | |
You wanna battle for cash and see who sun too? | |
I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggaz who fax | |
Niggaz lyrics is wack nigga | |
Can' t stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin scud missles | |
You rollin like trump, you get your meat lumped | |
For real, it' s just slang rap democracy | |
Here' s the policy, slide off the ring, plus the wallabees | |
Check the status, soon to see me at | |
Caesar' s palace eatin salads | |
We beatin mics and the keys to dallas | |
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell | |
From where we at to my man' s cell | |
From staircase to stage, minimun wage | |
But soon to get a article in rappage | |
But all i need is my house, my gat, my ac | |
Bank account fat it' s goin' down like that | |
And pardon the french but let me speak italian | |
Black stallion, dwellin on shaolin | |
That means the island of staten | |
And niggaz carry gats and mad police from manhattan | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: raekwon the chef | |
I do this for barber shop niggaz in the plaza | |
Catchin asthma, rae is stickin gunflashers | |
Welldressed, skatin through the projects wit big ones | |
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one | |
Upstairs, swithc like a chameleon | |
Hip brazilians, pass the cash or leave your children | |
Leave the buildin | |
Niggas, yo they be foldin' like envelopes under pressure | |
Like lou farigno on coke | |
Yo, africans denyin niggaz up in yellow cabs | |
Musty like funk, wavin they arms, the arabs | |
Sit back, coolin like kahlua' s on rocks | |
On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots | |
You bitches who fuck dreds on sudafeds | |
Pussy' s hurtin, they did it for a yard for the feds | |
Word up cousin, nigga, i seen it | |
Like a 27inch zenith believe it! | |
Chorus | |
... politic ditto | |
... get lifted in the staircases |