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    Wu-Tang Clan / Lyrics

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    "The Projects" Lyrics

    Wu-Tang Clan

    Peace God
    Peace to the Gods
    How you God?
    Studyin one-twenty right now
    Call me back at the God Hour

    [Raekwon the Chef]
    The Fuck?
    It's just the new way of thinkin
    Light up the broccoli kid
    Throw the relish in my back pocket

    Keep your eyes open
    Push your seat back, just flow...
    That's how we doin it

    Bound by honest sword take over the set; rap from here to Que-bec
    Throw up the tech, crash your intellect select a vet
    Swimsuit mammal handle, yo every fly vandal go to project
    Slam you like Hamill's wife 'fore the scandal
    Wally sandal just a sample, my niggaz fertilize thoughts
    Yo mad support drink a quart then bamboo
    When nasty can blew, my pen sterile won't perform if I'm not lampable
    Askin my man'll get you slapped down; play the anthem
    Lit it who wit it champagne get it, that's the ticket
    Solid nines soundin like crickets snatchin worker shipment
    Pull the air, long dick it, we talk right before we left lifted
    Just like a long sleeve, guess who rip it?

    [God] Projects

    [Rae] My niggaz survive, just like a movin target
    [God] Projects
    [Rae] Where niggaz live and some sell garbage that's
    [God] Projects
    [Rae] Try to escape the flyin shells dodgin
    [God] New York projects
    [Rae] I'm livin large yo, stop miragin

    [Method Man]
    Sign of the times, conspiracy to overthrow the mind
    Behind every fortune there's a crime
    This technique is tech-9
    Blast at any Close Encounter of the Third Kind
    This be the evil that man do, we dismantle, any adversary
    Them niggaz all thumbs and can't handle, my flurry
    Hear me, you jam all you want to scare me
    Don't even kid me, shit in my coke aimin at cha kidney
    Pressure, Red Hot like Chili Pepper

    Black 'n Decker, hardware avoid the leper
    Five o'clock shadowboxer, hold down the sector
    Bet ya bottom dollar lecture, be hard to swallow
    Double oh-seven mark
    The secret agent that Max/well and Get Smart, through entertainment
    Welcome to The Killin Fields, with Johnny Dangerous
    Headbanger boogie niggaz goin thru changes

    [God] Projects
    [Rae] My niggaz survive, just like a movin target
    [God] Projects
    [Rae] Where niggaz live and some sell garbage that's
    [God] Projects
    [Rae] Try to escape the flyin shells dodgin
    [God] Projects
    [Rae] I'm livin large yo, stop miragin

    [Ghostface Killah]
    Suck my dick it's the kid with the fat knob
    I bust all into ya face, plus it come in globs
    Quick get on your knees, with yo' sweet pussy let it breathe
    Two fingers is all in your hole, think I can fit three
    Your pink lips, spread it in shit, let me throw my dick in
    Grab my shit and place it gently, on your clit
    Ping-pong pussy, wide world of wombs titty saggin
    Stomach on some scriveled up prune shit
    Too much air in your pussy you screamin that it's
    TALKIN TO YOU DADDY, fart's breathin out your lips splashin my dick badly
    Use vinegar, to try to tighten up your ginger
    All-mighty dick, ran in with a cape, some call him engine
    Lightning rod bob, black candy cane attatched to God
    Thick, like a great adventure cigar, in your garage
    Pregnant pussy have you fall out, like Remi on the house
    Watch the teeth for slobbin my shit
    You bit it on the couch, dry pussy leave the friction burns
    Plus beef I hone, the condom broke
    Bitch you got AIDS I'm shakin in my bones
    This song was submitted on February 8th, 2008 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Clifford Smith, Corey Woods, Dennis David Coles, Lamont Hawkins, Robert F. Diggs.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

    Song Details

    track 7 on disc 2
    Forever [1997]
    Rank: (−)
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