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    Wu-Tang Clan / Lyrics

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    "Redbull" Lyrics

    Wu-Tang Clan feat. Redman

    RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on
    Ring the bell so it's time to eat
    Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats
    Bomb isdide the palm
    Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass iron dawn
    The font of my appartment built like the Klumps
    To carry it I take the spear out the trunk
    I stay hungry, I ain't worked for days
    That's why you see the pump when the curtains raise
    Blast! Don't panic
    Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed?

    Hell nah! I won't tell you son
    If I find a wack idea I sell you one
    Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah
    My lecture's like Hannibal Lecture's
    Where's the ketchup?
    Don't speak on it, shut ya trap
    I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks
    Ah woo, Doc in my own zone
    You say you got the rapgames on, but it's all wrong
    I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softy-truck
    Then pull a Mack out a box and smoke hoes
    Yeah, ya little fucks
    Gimme ya fucking money!

    [Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface]

    [Method Man]
    Uhuh, check it

    I'm hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on
    Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong?
    Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp
    If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn
    Pro's and con's, megabomb's and so-on's
    By arid actions try MC's to get their roll on
    First issue got issues
    What is hiphop to Hot Nickles
    It's like Funk Docter's snot tissues, word
    Look at my hand and get the third
    Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear
    Now that's what I call harcore, let's act fool
    Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool
    I been shitty, I'm from the veils of the city
    And just because my outfit match don't make me pretty
    Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe
    In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese
    Ain't no rules to the game, if it hit we ain't planned

    In your business like EPMD So What You Sayin'
    You codesignin that bullshit yo man tryin
    Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!!
    Slugs flyin

    [Shout-outs from Raekwon, Ghostface and Inspectah Deck]

    [Inspectah Deck]
    Yo, ya
    Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen
    Fo' wheel machines like ya wits scream
    Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban
    Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant
    We roll longer than dice in a casino
    Silo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0
    Behind the tinted windows I lay low
    On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0
    But now I get wild similar to Ol' Dirty
    On third time fellon just hit with over 30
    No worries, style have em so thirsty
    First degree heats are quittin on me
    Cold turkey, no mercy
    I bring the pain of a hundred migraines
    But a thousand shoutin my name that's why I came
    But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst
    My surroundsound pound ya ear like ... curse
    I flex muslce outside I find a next hustle
    Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle
    Even the best buckle win
    I take it to the exteme
    It gets ugly, but it's what a nigga do to get cream
    This life

    [Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface]
    This song was last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Clifford Smith, Hugh Brodie, Jason Hunter, Reggie Noble, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Song Details

    track 4
    The W [2000]
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