Wu-Tang - Love Don't Cost (A Thing)/Still Grimey (Nebulla & Dore Remixes) | Текст песни

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• Love Don't Cost (A Thing)/Still Grimey (Nebulla & Dore Remixes)

[Method Man]
Look, I'm razor sharp, ain't no cut in my throat
If you smell me, you see I'm dope, ain't no cuttin' my coke
I'm still, rough with the quotes, still, puffin' my smoke
While these critics still on they knees and still suckin' of GOAT's
My shit's grimey, not accustomed to soap, might even seel a customer soul
Or throw these shells thump in his coat
Spend my budget up, like 'fuck it, I'm broke'
You like them dudes on VH1, you lose trying fuck with New York
Look, this what the game bout, I'm from where niggas
Don't come around with the chains, I hangs out
With them ghetto women that bang out, do hair sell
Dope and babysit out the same house, you caved out
I do my thang, it's Wu-Tang, still in the game
My niggas still in the bathroom, stealing your chains
Look, it's M-E-F and Ice H20
Combination to the safe, it ain't safe no more, bitch

[Chorus: P.C.]
If love don't cost a thing, why is she chasing my paper, chasing my paper
I got a feeling in my heart that tells me something ain't right, something ain't right
Baby you could do what you do, you ain't got to do me no favors, do me no favors
I could of been the one that made that change in your life, change in your life

Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsforsong.net/

[U-God]
Yo, rated x, smack you off the stage when I'm vexed
No sweat, I crack a cold case of Beck's
Guess whose back, the jack of all trades is next
The rap cuisine, I crack a raw egg and flex
I cave in your chest, this one came from the jets
Yeah, the cause and effect, make innocent blood pour
The streets is like the rap game, a daily tug of war
For rich or for poor, or death do us part, niggaz come for test

[Prodigal Sunn]
I keeps it real in the field, Navy feel on the drill
Never stingy with my bills, plenty gravy I spilled
Recorded in the history of rap, two inch reels
Seven to ten mills, eleven to twenty hills
Rest in peace to my brother Half-A-Mil
Unnecessary blood spilt, another thug killed
Move with the mass appeal, the blast still
For the Cash Money Click, No Limits and no thrills
Mad cuz your hoe, feeling P. Sunzini, give you
As sweet as a kiwi, face it, you not me, nigga
Ladi dadi, the Gods like to party
We don't cause trouble, but we can make you a body
Ladi dadi, the Sunn likes to party
I don't cause trouble, but I will make you a body
Flowin' high in the Mazarati, two with my ninjas beside me
Lively, floating on some Ducatti's
With two gellati's, two hotties, we never sloppy
Jewelry rocky, Spanish pieces, they call me papi
Clear fire Bacardi, sobered up like Gotti
Rest in peace to my dog, Shotti, Shotti

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