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    Wu-Tang Clan / Lyrics

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    "Let My Niggas Live" Lyrics

    Wu-Tang Clan feat. Nas

    track 8
    The W [2000]
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    [Intro Skit]
    Someday I'm gonna be walkin down the streets,
    mindin my own business.. and BAM!!
    I'm gon' be shot by some pig who's gonna SWEAR
    that it was a mistake.
    I accept that as a part of my destiny!

    [*Si es mi destino morir en la calle como un perro! Hahaha*]

    [Raekwon the Chef]
    Whattup kid? That's right..
    Yo.. aiyyo.. aiyyo..

    [Chorus: Raekwon]
    Aiyyo let my niggas live
    We show and prove get paper, catch me in the caper on shrooms yo
    Let my niggas live
    We real niggas that's God-body, challenge anything, make major moves
    Let my niggas live
    We giants, live off the land lions, post with iron, no pryin rules
    Let my niggas live; aiyyo let my niggas live
    Handle your bid and kill no kids

    [Raekwon the Chef]
    Millionaire feat, whole family eat; yo, y'all niggas is weak
    Got a bird beak, chirp chirp speak
    Kids that's rich that'll, run in your bitch and by the third week
    Yo mark my word, me and my herb speak
    That's that fire move like Schwinns yo
    Invisible pens that write light, leave blends
    Hit with the JF Kennedy shot
    Smash with the Acapulco rifle got got
    Bolt off, but got clocked
    Legendary here, custom made it, shit bladed, word up
    Design your alphabet, reps get graded
    We in get-high saloons, big bag of shrooms, arm's length
    Home of Allah's ten big rooms
    So what we up in here, modelin large with rigorous moves
    Exotic Gods bust my hammer at frauds
    Call him a live merchant, dressed in all red, that's right y'all
    Gucci jumper X-5, gettin more head


    I scream at the mirror, curse, askin God, "Why me?"
    Run in the black church, gun in my hand, y'all try me
    I'm God-son, son of man, son of Marcus Garvey
    Rastafari irie, Ha-ile Selassie
    Police'll try to break us, but the streets raised us
    It takes more than metal bars, we destined for ours
    I hear murder plans from dopefiends, with elephant hands
    Snots in they nostril, the blocks is hostile
    There's no pots to piss in, glocks is spittin
    Rocks cookin underground bodies stiffin, cops look at bird shit
    Drop on the window pane, the oxygen is cocaine
    It drove lots of men to die with no name
    I been on boats, nut down throats, pee on bitches who famous
    Pretty dick, puttin stitches in they anus
    I'm the animal that Hugh Heffner created
    The only nigga Sade dated, the most hated, Nas nigga


    [Inspectah Deck]
    Roughneck reppin the set, bang 'em twice in the neck
    C.O. flip and jerk the whole yard rec
    Block vets, pop barettas glocks and tecs
    You're no threat, gun talk, the language of the project
    Checkin shorty with the +Black Tail+ stance, leapord pants
    Yellin fuck her man, makin killings off her lap dance
    Plus the young guns runnin the slums, funds is major
    Drugged out, got you huntin for crumbs stuck to the razor
    Semi-autos roar in the building hall
    Symptoms of bloodsport, the slugs are still in wall
    Call it a New York state of mind, gotta take mine
    In the daytime, the Jakes'll hit ya forty-one times
    So I live by the sword and obey hood laws
    Make my team click like high heels on wood floors

    This song was submitted on March 10th, 2010 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Thanks to Snap for the contribution to this song.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Clifford Smith, Jason Hunter, Nasir Jones, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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