歌曲 | Heaven & Hell (Album Version) |
歌手 | Raekwon |
专辑 | Only Built 4 Cuban Linx |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Diggs, Woods | |
* originally featured on the _fresh_ soundtrack | |
Intro:raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo what what, yo | |
Exotic type shit | |
Ninety-four, we must go to war fast | |
With the pen and the pad | |
God damn, shine like gold rims on pathfinders | |
Wu-tang reclines, lamps, for the nine-squares kid | |
Money clothes designer hoes and shows y'all | |
Lyrics: raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo, yo, wakin up about ten kid | |
Jumpin in the shower, peace about to make | |
Moves and slide like greese | |
What? i'm all about tecs and checks and nuff respect you front | |
I'm slammin you like the lex | |
So now i'm out in the ninety-five | |
Rockin that real nigga don't die | |
Guess down | |
Drawers kani! | |
But yo i'm makin a pit stop | |
Go and buy a box of glocks, til he rolled up and yo | |
Whattup hobbes? | |
Yo, remember that kid that we vicked | |
He made a half of mil for real | |
He brought about fo' bricks | |
Yo, so now we connect doors, meet me at the airport | |
Tell golden arms maintain the fort | |
Get in touch with that west coast cali crab you stabbed | |
And meet me at the bitch lab | |
So word up kid, we slid like a fat four to twelve bid and shit | |
Couldn't even rest, i need the vic | |
And when i slept, i dream g's, son i need some | |
Keys roll self, call up son | |
I heard pook and tyriq caught a beef over some real shit | |
A fake nigga faked and they killed his click | |
Gimme a minute and i'm with it | |
Yo niggaz done did it | |
Rock your vest | |
Keep your whip tinted | |
So now we see him up in bojangles | |
Stranglin a forty ounce, with ten g's worth of gold bangles | |
Diamonds, what, all up in his face | |
With his man's mace, medallions the size of dinner plates | |
Yo, he knew we knew him so we blew him | |
Took thirty g's worth of jewels of that nigga | |
Do him! | |
So now i'm lampin in my man's land | |
Streets is hot like sand | |
Jesus rollin in my right hand | |
Yup, you know the steezo black | |
Got to go down like that | |
Shallah | |
Cigars | |
And ball hats | |
Outro: | |
Ninety-four, takin niggaz to war, yo, yo | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don't beleive in heaven cause we're livin in hell | |
(repeat 2x) | |
So it's your life | |
*we're livin in hell, we're livin in hellllllll* | |
What a chamber, ****in with mad strangers | |
Yeah, you know how it runs baby, straight up yo | |
Money clothes, designer hoes and shows y'all | |
That's how it goes | |
Whatever | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don't believe in heaven cause we're livin in hell | |
31st chamber y'all | |
So it's your life | |
(what do you believe in? heaven or hell?) | |
Niggaz ain't even know son, only half is sewed cash | |
(you don't believe in heaven cause we're livin in hell) | |
They haven't yet sold their weight | |
(what do you believe in? heaven or hell?) | |
Question, shit is real, youknowhati'msayin | |
(you don't believe...) | |
Niggaz think it's all about a real live allah | |
A little hundred dollars and that make you a man | |
Knowhati'msayin? | |
You ain't even promised tomorrow son, word up | |
Niggaz don't understand how life can be so short | |
Come so fast | |
With the blinkin of eye, blinkin of eye you're gone baby | |
Straight up, knowhati'msayin, get turned to dust | |
Return to the casket | |
That ass is out son, word up | |
Word up, get evaporated, straight up | |
Word up | |
Lose all your strength nigga | |
Crazy dedication shout out to the memory of two cent jason | |
Heartbroken, we soakin wet though | |
Keepin it real for my peopls | |
Yeah, yo | |
And my physical brother devon, you're still in here baby | |
Because you're in my arms nigga, word up | |
I never let you go baby | |
Youknowhati'msayin? you my life charm, word up | |
For real | |
Keep shinin | |
Real for keepin it real, shout out to major niggaz | |
Big kawai, jess, hell in the computer system | |
The rza, who slams fat discs for the ninety-four | |
Word up, rza, he's my nigga baby | |
Yeah, eatin dinner with the big boys now | |
Yaknowhati'msayin? | |
Word up, big booth represent the q | |
Knowhowedo, lamp, get that power-u, type, things on float | |
Gza, word up, master killer | |
The don of the clan, method man, inspector deck | |
Dirty bastard | |
U-god, word up baby | |
Keep it real son | |
Keep packin them guns | |
Word up |
zuo ci : Diggs, Woods | |
originally featured on the _fresh_ soundtrack | |
Intro: raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo what what, yo | |
Exotic type shit | |
Ninetyfour, we must go to war fast | |
With the pen and the pad | |
God damn, shine like gold rims on pathfinders | |
Wutang reclines, lamps, for the ninesquares kid | |
Money clothes designer hoes and shows y' all | |
Lyrics: raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo, yo, wakin up about ten kid | |
Jumpin in the shower, peace about to make | |
Moves and slide like greese | |
What? i' m all about tecs and checks and nuff respect you front | |
I' m slammin you like the lex | |
So now i' m out in the ninetyfive | |
Rockin that real nigga don' t die | |
Guess down | |
Drawers kani! | |
But yo i' m makin a pit stop | |
Go and buy a box of glocks, til he rolled up and yo | |
Whattup hobbes? | |
Yo, remember that kid that we vicked | |
He made a half of mil for real | |
He brought about fo' bricks | |
Yo, so now we connect doors, meet me at the airport | |
Tell golden arms maintain the fort | |
Get in touch with that west coast cali crab you stabbed | |
And meet me at the bitch lab | |
So word up kid, we slid like a fat four to twelve bid and shit | |
Couldn' t even rest, i need the vic | |
And when i slept, i dream g' s, son i need some | |
Keys roll self, call up son | |
I heard pook and tyriq caught a beef over some real shit | |
A fake nigga faked and they killed his click | |
Gimme a minute and i' m with it | |
Yo niggaz done did it | |
Rock your vest | |
Keep your whip tinted | |
So now we see him up in bojangles | |
Stranglin a forty ounce, with ten g' s worth of gold bangles | |
Diamonds, what, all up in his face | |
With his man' s mace, medallions the size of dinner plates | |
Yo, he knew we knew him so we blew him | |
Took thirty g' s worth of jewels of that nigga | |
Do him! | |
So now i' m lampin in my man' s land | |
Streets is hot like sand | |
Jesus rollin in my right hand | |
Yup, you know the steezo black | |
Got to go down like that | |
Shallah | |
Cigars | |
And ball hats | |
Outro: | |
Ninetyfour, takin niggaz to war, yo, yo | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don' t beleive in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
repeat 2x | |
So it' s your life | |
we' re livin in hell, we' re livin in hellllllll | |
What a chamber, in with mad strangers | |
Yeah, you know how it runs baby, straight up yo | |
Money clothes, designer hoes and shows y' all | |
That' s how it goes | |
Whatever | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don' t believe in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
31st chamber y' all | |
So it' s your life | |
what do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
Niggaz ain' t even know son, only half is sewed cash | |
you don' t believe in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
They haven' t yet sold their weight | |
what do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
Question, shit is real, youknowhati' msayin | |
you don' t believe... | |
Niggaz think it' s all about a real live allah | |
A little hundred dollars and that make you a man | |
Knowhati' msayin? | |
You ain' t even promised tomorrow son, word up | |
Niggaz don' t understand how life can be so short | |
Come so fast | |
With the blinkin of eye, blinkin of eye you' re gone baby | |
Straight up, knowhati' msayin, get turned to dust | |
Return to the casket | |
That ass is out son, word up | |
Word up, get evaporated, straight up | |
Word up | |
Lose all your strength nigga | |
Crazy dedication shout out to the memory of two cent jason | |
Heartbroken, we soakin wet though | |
Keepin it real for my peopls | |
Yeah, yo | |
And my physical brother devon, you' re still in here baby | |
Because you' re in my arms nigga, word up | |
I never let you go baby | |
Youknowhati' msayin? you my life charm, word up | |
For real | |
Keep shinin | |
Real for keepin it real, shout out to major niggaz | |
Big kawai, jess, hell in the computer system | |
The rza, who slams fat discs for the ninetyfour | |
Word up, rza, he' s my nigga baby | |
Yeah, eatin dinner with the big boys now | |
Yaknowhati' msayin? | |
Word up, big booth represent the q | |
Knowhowedo, lamp, get that poweru, type, things on float | |
Gza, word up, master killer | |
The don of the clan, method man, inspector deck | |
Dirty bastard | |
Ugod, word up baby | |
Keep it real son | |
Keep packin them guns | |
Word up |
zuò cí : Diggs, Woods | |
originally featured on the _fresh_ soundtrack | |
Intro: raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo what what, yo | |
Exotic type shit | |
Ninetyfour, we must go to war fast | |
With the pen and the pad | |
God damn, shine like gold rims on pathfinders | |
Wutang reclines, lamps, for the ninesquares kid | |
Money clothes designer hoes and shows y' all | |
Lyrics: raekwon, ghostface | |
Yo, yo, wakin up about ten kid | |
Jumpin in the shower, peace about to make | |
Moves and slide like greese | |
What? i' m all about tecs and checks and nuff respect you front | |
I' m slammin you like the lex | |
So now i' m out in the ninetyfive | |
Rockin that real nigga don' t die | |
Guess down | |
Drawers kani! | |
But yo i' m makin a pit stop | |
Go and buy a box of glocks, til he rolled up and yo | |
Whattup hobbes? | |
Yo, remember that kid that we vicked | |
He made a half of mil for real | |
He brought about fo' bricks | |
Yo, so now we connect doors, meet me at the airport | |
Tell golden arms maintain the fort | |
Get in touch with that west coast cali crab you stabbed | |
And meet me at the bitch lab | |
So word up kid, we slid like a fat four to twelve bid and shit | |
Couldn' t even rest, i need the vic | |
And when i slept, i dream g' s, son i need some | |
Keys roll self, call up son | |
I heard pook and tyriq caught a beef over some real shit | |
A fake nigga faked and they killed his click | |
Gimme a minute and i' m with it | |
Yo niggaz done did it | |
Rock your vest | |
Keep your whip tinted | |
So now we see him up in bojangles | |
Stranglin a forty ounce, with ten g' s worth of gold bangles | |
Diamonds, what, all up in his face | |
With his man' s mace, medallions the size of dinner plates | |
Yo, he knew we knew him so we blew him | |
Took thirty g' s worth of jewels of that nigga | |
Do him! | |
So now i' m lampin in my man' s land | |
Streets is hot like sand | |
Jesus rollin in my right hand | |
Yup, you know the steezo black | |
Got to go down like that | |
Shallah | |
Cigars | |
And ball hats | |
Outro: | |
Ninetyfour, takin niggaz to war, yo, yo | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don' t beleive in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
repeat 2x | |
So it' s your life | |
we' re livin in hell, we' re livin in hellllllll | |
What a chamber, in with mad strangers | |
Yeah, you know how it runs baby, straight up yo | |
Money clothes, designer hoes and shows y' all | |
That' s how it goes | |
Whatever | |
What do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
You don' t believe in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
31st chamber y' all | |
So it' s your life | |
what do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
Niggaz ain' t even know son, only half is sewed cash | |
you don' t believe in heaven cause we' re livin in hell | |
They haven' t yet sold their weight | |
what do you believe in? heaven or hell? | |
Question, shit is real, youknowhati' msayin | |
you don' t believe... | |
Niggaz think it' s all about a real live allah | |
A little hundred dollars and that make you a man | |
Knowhati' msayin? | |
You ain' t even promised tomorrow son, word up | |
Niggaz don' t understand how life can be so short | |
Come so fast | |
With the blinkin of eye, blinkin of eye you' re gone baby | |
Straight up, knowhati' msayin, get turned to dust | |
Return to the casket | |
That ass is out son, word up | |
Word up, get evaporated, straight up | |
Word up | |
Lose all your strength nigga | |
Crazy dedication shout out to the memory of two cent jason | |
Heartbroken, we soakin wet though | |
Keepin it real for my peopls | |
Yeah, yo | |
And my physical brother devon, you' re still in here baby | |
Because you' re in my arms nigga, word up | |
I never let you go baby | |
Youknowhati' msayin? you my life charm, word up | |
For real | |
Keep shinin | |
Real for keepin it real, shout out to major niggaz | |
Big kawai, jess, hell in the computer system | |
The rza, who slams fat discs for the ninetyfour | |
Word up, rza, he' s my nigga baby | |
Yeah, eatin dinner with the big boys now | |
Yaknowhati' msayin? | |
Word up, big booth represent the q | |
Knowhowedo, lamp, get that poweru, type, things on float | |
Gza, word up, master killer | |
The don of the clan, method man, inspector deck | |
Dirty bastard | |
Ugod, word up baby | |
Keep it real son | |
Keep packin them guns | |
Word up |