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WU-TANG CLAN lyrics : "Older Gods"

[Verse One: Ghostface Killah]

Aiyyo I roll like a bat out of hell

Evil acapell's fly spittin out of my grill
Before I hit the sky with springtime colors
Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads double dutch this

They carve it in they wrist, pales berry blazes
Straighten the crumbs left on the stove, clothes in my lady hair
Plus yours the look gold God, the old tainted bald technique

Got these vestibules designer ^!$$%z in they whips
jumpin out they seats, eighteen, Bronzeman Part II
We like Dorothy Hamill on ice

We in your hood we might circle, hats down low in the Range
Switch lanes, change my tire, peel out
Real loud on the stage yo, I %#@!ted on your hood kid

I %#@!ted on your hood, got to your burner too late
I'm lookin real good, draped out
Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your girlfriend, c'mere

Oh %#@!, you my man's niece, the gourmet pocket twenty
bombs made of clay, Sexcapades take place
We $#&@ed in forty-eight shades might walk up in your studio

time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to that style
Hand me the matches now


[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef]

Aiyyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this

^!$$%z bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana twist
E shakes, puffin on lye, feedin the seed's plate
Pullin out, old dirty eights to rob gates

Major wake up, the kid telltales, make a ^!$$% head wake up
Beats break, the ^!$$% would take off his time
Honolulu status, gladdest

the rich rock cabbage and dollar vans grands
That ^!$$% mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
^!$$%z came clumped out

Just came home, now they bunked out
Money be longer than triple life
til the sun burn out, that's my word

Move it with the burner out
Fidel way of thinkin, roll with the Mac bent Ac-10
Most of my team, Five Percent check what the live said

Rollin with Guess vests pedestrians yo
holdin my nuts, $#&@in thousand dollar lesbians


[Ghost] Yo, the Older God put me on and had to rock this
[both] Maintain Three-Sixty Lord live prosperous
[Ghost] It only takes a lesson a day, just to !@#^yze life

[both] one time in the respectable mind
[repeat 2X]


[Verse Three: The Genius/GZA]

Let the shot spark, soon as his pit bull barks

Tire scars from skid marks leaves from jams in school parks
Witness, forget his, original statement
Even in protection programs there's no escapement

Gunned down, we in town, hit king from seven crowns
Spent rounds catch him while he rhyme in the Zebra Lounge
Wounded, back in the eighty-three summer heat

Up in three-oh-nine park, rhymin off the drummer's beat
I stalk the city streets demonstratin mic wrecks
All lookin stank, I ain't playin wit a full deck

And as they nervously stare, I know they scared
They saw the coming of Wu, the neon in Times Square
Household name, $$#assin, killa bee

Mill to the grain, that posess the Wu, trilogy
Quick to spot those that bite camoflouge and blend
Those that got styles, they got identical twins

Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are finnicky
without skills, they master the art of mimicry
But I go line for line on the whole page

Your unspotted life on the mic is old age

[*rocket fired, whistles off and explodes, breaking glass*]

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