Hellz Wind Staff - Explicit Version 歌词
| 歌曲 | Hellz Wind Staff - Explicit Version |
| 歌手 | Wu-Tang Clan |
| 歌手 | Street Life |
| 专辑 | Wu-Tang Forever (Explicit) |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Wu Tang Clan | |
| Tang""Die!" *sounds of fighting are heard*Verse One: Street LifeSo get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind StaffWhile the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the newslike Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lungHis father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongueAnother youth dead, before the age of twenty-oneLeft his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slumsWhere the shots echo, for twisted metal for cash flowReact slow nigga and get, P.L.O.By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brotherwho got slain last summer by a cocaine runnerA new year is dawning, new crews is formingRival gangs is warring blood steadily pouringThe streets are deep Son every day is like a rerunSo I reach out and try to teach oneBut eighty-five percent uncivilized contentNo tolerance so a lifetime is spentbehind a cage bent smoked out on a park benchKiller instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched*sounds of fighting*Verse Two: Ghostface KillahSo yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuckTell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truckTo all you slow footed penguins, duckin from thesehot rocks that's flamin, charcoal broiled rap Damian'sSpraying cards ex-pionage, dodgeball sweat hardStrip bars, no bras, wet leotardsin the making, next album Blood On Chef's ApronKeep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpenDiscovery Channel, catch the book of DanielCoke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboohigh school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck outon the regular for robbin a good nigga houseRough cut raw doseage, the unexplainableHot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa*sounds of fighting*Verse Three: Inspectah DeckHa ha ha ha, yoWhat you know about this, specialist armed dangerousHit you close range with this madnessUnique design shine like a deep dishThe beat kick technique spit on your weak shitYes, the rhythm, the RebelAlone in my level heated up past the boiling point of metalLiving legend, veteran known to set trendLethal weapon, step through your sectionwith the Force like Luke SkywalkerRhyme author, orchestrate mind tortureLive performer, bid the mic sayanoraBorderline to insane, I rain firewaterTape recorder, can't be saved by a court orderI got my sword cross your throat you jokeVerse Four: Method ManWe on the run with the golden guns, get you numbwhen it reach out and teach someone, blaze they bunsNow I'm guilty by associationTimes of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practicecommence when I throw these darts at these rappersRicochet, hit the charts, bloody your matressHold me down, Wu bloodkin, I'm goin inShootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoctionblend like chameleonAll these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word upWe can go platinum but then, still can't get no satisfactionOnce again, back on the block crumb snatchinBlowin backs inCold-Blooded nine assassins, time for action, Johnny UnidasHandle that like arthritisStill, hold a golden touch like King Midas*swords clash*Verse Five: RZADrowning problems in Heineken's imported from HollandGettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columnsget cracked by drum tracks smack loud as gun clapsPin a crab to death with a thousand thumbtacksThe Wu centerfold, it be's the Wind Ninja scrollSoul edged blade controls your inner poleThe thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree rootI stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruitswith Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it meanswhen bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling(" | |
| Sometimes...") Pushed through like George Bush Operation PUSHShots get popped on the block causing blood to gushFrom digital to analog, the Wu-Wear camoflogueMy entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibarlike herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadowConnect from Brook To Shao like the Verrazano NarrowsVerse Six: Raekwon the ChefStashin cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleamoLex graffiti name Remo, hold em we rollinaskin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in ToledoPussy that shit she passin off to me thoughWe wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, MaxamillYou could crash a mil, got you back stillscold em and fold em like they thousand dollar billssit back iron y'all niggaz outFakes that delegate we spittin fire outVerb burgular, designer Wally shoe store reserverJet status, Guyanese bird up on my matressWatch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashionYo, these hands is flooded and they mad quickStrong approach like magnets, custom wood crane nameStylin rich, RZA made the waves in one cham'Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide likeup on his Klondike, get your dart rightWe movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face brokeJury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y'all cats(" | |
| Sometimes...")*sounds of fighting*" | |
| May you rot in hell!"" | |
| Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!" |
| zuo ci : Wu Tang Clan | |
| Tang"" Die!" sounds of fighting are heard Verse One: Street LifeSo get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind StaffWhile the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the newslike Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lungHis father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongueAnother youth dead, before the age of twentyoneLeft his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slumsWhere the shots echo, for twisted metal for cash flowReact slow nigga and get, P. L. O. By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brotherwho got slain last summer by a cocaine runnerA new year is dawning, new crews is formingRival gangs is warring blood steadily pouringThe streets are deep Son every day is like a rerunSo I reach out and try to teach oneBut eightyfive percent uncivilized contentNo tolerance so a lifetime is spentbehind a cage bent smoked out on a park benchKiller instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched sounds of fighting Verse Two: Ghostface KillahSo yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuckTell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truckTo all you slow footed penguins, duckin from thesehot rocks that' s flamin, charcoal broiled rap Damian' sSpraying cards expionage, dodgeball sweat hardStrip bars, no bras, wet leotardsin the making, next album Blood On Chef' s ApronKeep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpenDiscovery Channel, catch the book of DanielCoke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboohigh school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck outon the regular for robbin a good nigga houseRough cut raw doseage, the unexplainableHot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa sounds of fighting Verse Three: Inspectah DeckHa ha ha ha, yoWhat you know about this, specialist armed dangerousHit you close range with this madnessUnique design shine like a deep dishThe beat kick technique spit on your weak shitYes, the rhythm, the RebelAlone in my level heated up past the boiling point of metalLiving legend, veteran known to set trendLethal weapon, step through your sectionwith the Force like Luke SkywalkerRhyme author, orchestrate mind tortureLive performer, bid the mic sayanoraBorderline to insane, I rain firewaterTape recorder, can' t be saved by a court orderI got my sword cross your throat you jokeVerse Four: Method ManWe on the run with the golden guns, get you numbwhen it reach out and teach someone, blaze they bunsNow I' m guilty by associationTimes of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practicecommence when I throw these darts at these rappersRicochet, hit the charts, bloody your matressHold me down, Wu bloodkin, I' m goin inShootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoctionblend like chameleonAll these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word upWe can go platinum but then, still can' t get no satisfactionOnce again, back on the block crumb snatchinBlowin backs inColdBlooded nine assassins, time for action, Johnny UnidasHandle that like arthritisStill, hold a golden touch like King Midas swords clash Verse Five: RZADrowning problems in Heineken' s imported from HollandGettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columnsget cracked by drum tracks smack loud as gun clapsPin a crab to death with a thousand thumbtacksThe Wu centerfold, it be' s the Wind Ninja scrollSoul edged blade controls your inner poleThe thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree rootI stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruitswith Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it meanswhen bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling" | |
| Sometimes..." Pushed through like George Bush Operation PUSHShots get popped on the block causing blood to gushFrom digital to analog, the WuWear camoflogueMy entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibarlike herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadowConnect from Brook To Shao like the Verrazano NarrowsVerse Six: Raekwon the ChefStashin cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleamoLex graffiti name Remo, hold em we rollinaskin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in ToledoPussy that shit she passin off to me thoughWe wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, MaxamillYou could crash a mil, got you back stillscold em and fold em like they thousand dollar billssit back iron y' all niggaz outFakes that delegate we spittin fire outVerb burgular, designer Wally shoe store reserverJet status, Guyanese bird up on my matressWatch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashionYo, these hands is flooded and they mad quickStrong approach like magnets, custom wood crane nameStylin rich, RZA made the waves in one cham' Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide likeup on his Klondike, get your dart rightWe movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face brokeJury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y' all cats" | |
| Sometimes..." sounds of fighting" | |
| May you rot in hell!"" | |
| Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!" |
| zuò cí : Wu Tang Clan | |
| Tang"" Die!" sounds of fighting are heard Verse One: Street LifeSo get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind StaffWhile the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the newslike Kaity Chung, how the bullet collapsed his lungHis father watched the horror as he swallowed his tongueAnother youth dead, before the age of twentyoneLeft his son to grow, in the ghettoes of the slumsWhere the shots echo, for twisted metal for cash flowReact slow nigga and get, P. L. O. By the lone gunner, who took revenge for his brotherwho got slain last summer by a cocaine runnerA new year is dawning, new crews is formingRival gangs is warring blood steadily pouringThe streets are deep Son every day is like a rerunSo I reach out and try to teach oneBut eightyfive percent uncivilized contentNo tolerance so a lifetime is spentbehind a cage bent smoked out on a park benchKiller instinct slave rap niggaz get lynched sounds of fighting Verse Two: Ghostface KillahSo yo break that nigga arm fast as a fuckTell Ra, Goldie left my beige jacket in his truckTo all you slow footed penguins, duckin from thesehot rocks that' s flamin, charcoal broiled rap Damian' sSpraying cards expionage, dodgeball sweat hardStrip bars, no bras, wet leotardsin the making, next album Blood On Chef' s ApronKeep a Gambino PlayStation in your playpenDiscovery Channel, catch the book of DanielCoke blunts hot as a FUCK swatted bamboohigh school dropouts, baseheads get knocked the fuck outon the regular for robbin a good nigga houseRough cut raw doseage, the unexplainableHot rock lava, gringo throw the flows iglasa sounds of fighting Verse Three: Inspectah DeckHa ha ha ha, yoWhat you know about this, specialist armed dangerousHit you close range with this madnessUnique design shine like a deep dishThe beat kick technique spit on your weak shitYes, the rhythm, the RebelAlone in my level heated up past the boiling point of metalLiving legend, veteran known to set trendLethal weapon, step through your sectionwith the Force like Luke SkywalkerRhyme author, orchestrate mind tortureLive performer, bid the mic sayanoraBorderline to insane, I rain firewaterTape recorder, can' t be saved by a court orderI got my sword cross your throat you jokeVerse Four: Method ManWe on the run with the golden guns, get you numbwhen it reach out and teach someone, blaze they bunsNow I' m guilty by associationTimes of blackness eclipsin the sun, target practicecommence when I throw these darts at these rappersRicochet, hit the charts, bloody your matressHold me down, Wu bloodkin, I' m goin inShootin bullets at the top ten, rhyme concoctionblend like chameleonAll these niggaz want cheese, is we mice or men, word upWe can go platinum but then, still can' t get no satisfactionOnce again, back on the block crumb snatchinBlowin backs inColdBlooded nine assassins, time for action, Johnny UnidasHandle that like arthritisStill, hold a golden touch like King Midas swords clash Verse Five: RZADrowning problems in Heineken' s imported from HollandGettin boosted off a killer bee pollen, stone columnsget cracked by drum tracks smack loud as gun clapsPin a crab to death with a thousand thumbtacksThe Wu centerfold, it be' s the Wind Ninja scrollSoul edged blade controls your inner poleThe thick loop, fruit from the forbidden tree rootI stay secluded in the Chamber trainin new recruitswith Fatal Guillotine, the black hooded team what it meanswhen bullets scream from the hot glock like rock from a sling" | |
| Sometimes..." Pushed through like George Bush Operation PUSHShots get popped on the block causing blood to gushFrom digital to analog, the WuWear camoflogueMy entourage squad we stompin through Zanzibarlike herds of cattle, RZA plays the wall like a shadowConnect from Brook To Shao like the Verrazano NarrowsVerse Six: Raekwon the ChefStashin cream though, Iceatollah ice style gleamoLex graffiti name Remo, hold em we rollinaskin me though, raps is hotter than, hot tamales in ToledoPussy that shit she passin off to me thoughWe wax Ajax niggaz with a axe, MaxamillYou could crash a mil, got you back stillscold em and fold em like they thousand dollar billssit back iron y' all niggaz outFakes that delegate we spittin fire outVerb burgular, designer Wally shoe store reserverJet status, Guyanese bird up on my matressWatch me mack this, Ralph Lauren goose inside a fashionYo, these hands is flooded and they mad quickStrong approach like magnets, custom wood crane nameStylin rich, RZA made the waves in one cham' Feelin mics like, wheelin a bike, slide likeup on his Klondike, get your dart rightWe movin on it like, wind breaker niggaz get they face brokeJury get snatched, magazine right on the low, fuck y' all cats" | |
| Sometimes..." sounds of fighting" | |
| May you rot in hell!"" | |
| Ahahahahah, ahahahahaha, ahahahahaha!" |
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