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    GZA / Lyrics

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    "Rough Cut" Lyrics


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    [Intro: Armel]
    Uh-huh, GZA, uh, RZA, uh

    Listen, if ya'll can spit, we can spit, please get it together
    Cuz anything you can do, I can do better
    Your imagine material looks, hotter behind looks
    Raise the fear, no one, but self, who's shook?
    Bring the plague like the revelations in the holy book
    Who's spot you took? Duke off the hook
    I'm from the land of the crook, life quit the end
    Better known as the Brook, rather tape then lend
    There's a lot of wack records, but this ain't one of them
    DJ's off the books, go 'head put the gun at them
    All groupie M.C.'s, I'm bout to start stunnin' 'em
    Don't matter what crew, every last one of 'em
    It's gettin' crowded in here, some acts got to go
    Let's start by eliminatin' groups that can't flow
    I better meal my deal, my career with no fear
    That none of ya'll group can touch what's over here

    [Chorus: GZA]
    These rough cut metal tapes
    Quick to break your label mates, won't hesitate
    Negotiate your table stakes, you can't flow right
    Or fuck with me on no night
    Fuck the slow light, you need to get your show right

    [Prodigal Sunn]
    Yo Justice, how many M.C.'s must get pistol whipped?
    Crack faces with bottles of Crys', hollow tips gobble lips
    That's the penalty for poppin' that shit
    Vanish in a colorless whip, bags of grip
    Doo-rags and clips, tag the strip
    You had the chance to advance, I'm sorry for the holes in
    your hip
    Son, It's the way of the street merchant, live by the laws,
    die by the rules
    My gleam play the part of a fool
    Now hear these jewels from a wise king, see what my eyes seen
    Ten year supreme, the theme, we sizzle-line and triple CREAM
    My grip'll off that digital bream, visual scene
    Roll footage on your video screen
    Globe patrol, Two On The Road, we never fold
    Snub react, GZA mack eliminate tracks
    Stimulate phat, Sunzini, nigga, gifted and black
    Now watch me mack to the kingdom of rap

    [12 O'Clock]
    Give me a beat, nigga dealin' battles like a thief
    Done killed more niggas than Jason in part 3
    Stay Wu, on the graveyard and this label
    Dum dums, that battle 12 O'Clock, now it's able
    So what, looked up and made the bitches clap
    That was because my style's clothes, not the raps
    Ain't that shit, props for the clothing
    Should of brought a mirror, cuz lyric wasn't rollin'
    My rhymes is all that and yours ain't shit
    And at a party, your bitch takin' crazy flicks of me
    She said I was nigga celebrity
    But I'm from the slums, with the bums drinkin' Hennesey
    Take a sip of some Jamaican rum
    Put fire to my lung, tongue, teeth and gums
    When it comes out my mouth, shit's hot and it burns
    Make fools out of bitches like I'm Howard Stern

    [Chorus 2X]
    This song was submitted on November 17th, 2004 and last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Gary E. Grice, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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