][o0][.beats - фитСвуТЭНГОМфитСвуТЭНГОМфитСвуТЭНГОМ | Текст песни

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• фитСвуТЭНГОМфитСвуТЭНГОМфитСвуТЭНГОМ

[Intro: Raekwon the Chef, Method Man]

What that nigga want God?
Word up, look out for the cops (Wu-Tang five finger shit)
(Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby
Word up, two for fives them niggaz got garbage down the way, word up
KnowhatI'msayin?
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me
C.R.E.A.M. get...)
Yeah, check this ol fly shit out
Word up
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go
(dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this shit, yo!

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]

I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side
Staying alive was no jive
At second hands, moms bounced on old men
So then we moved to Shaolin land
A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose
Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot
And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one
And that one, pullin out gats for fun
But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend
Started smokin woolies at sixteen
And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes
Making my way on fire escapes
No question I would speed, for cracks and weed
The combination made my eyes bleed
No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all
Sticking up white boys in ball courts
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater
Times is ruff and tuff like leather
Figured out I went the wrong route
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out
Catchin keys from across seas
Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's
Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine
Ch-chick-POW! Move from the gate now

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