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WU-TANG CLAN : Clap lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

WU-TANG CLAN lyrics : "Clap"

Call it the Hollow Bone syndrome line
Select sweet nine, face this, watch his whole face lift

Bracelets, murder ^!$$%s, luxurious, banks I was draped
Caked out, half a million dollars in coats
Flows is genetic, the Corleone connection in all

Selection, stock brokers with coats on
Make [email protected]%!e suggestion, all twin glizzies
Fireman, Gucci boots on, sideways action, murder ^!$$%s fear me yo

Cash that he did Clinton, rentin his mother crib out
We send organize the Bill of Rights get lid
Drugs that Hendrix was on, conversatin like the Dutch

Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae
Flows that blow thru your roll and Holland
Everybody now, trip up ^!$$%s, in clicks we posin rhyme black

Half the year, half my ^!$$%s sittin upstairs
Takin pictures of ya ^!$$%s wack gear

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah (U-God)]
Listen to the (Clap)
Real ^!$$%s (Clap)

Rich ^!$$%s (Clap)
My (*##$es (Clap)
If you love #[email protected] then y'all ^!$$%s (Clap)

If you love to get ate, then ya ladies (Clap)
If you real $#&@ed up, then ya'll ^!$$%s (Clap)
If you bare witness to Allah y'all (Clap)

Aiyo you see me on the big screen y'all ^!$$%s Clap
(Jeans with a gangster lean, y'all Clap)
Good hats, sloppy automatics that Clap

(Big %#@!, thunder) Get around that

[Ghostface Killah]

Porcelain floors with a dog named Ginger
Bottle cap ^!$$%s that rhyme, we the winners
Then slide thru your hood in hoods

Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man C. Woods
Holdin up gorilla, two ^!$$%s got a hold that %#@!
One shot and ya mans on it

The little kids watch from down the block
Jury box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the ran spots
Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it

$#&@ (*##$es raw, why? cuz I'm a pro at it
Big birds danglin, cameras snatch, flash and pop from every angle and
2000 Mark Damon'in

[Hook: Method Man]
Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap

Clap, Clap ya hands now, Clap, Clap, Clap ya hands now
People Clap ya hands

[Method Man]
I drink till I'm drunk,
smoke skunk with my stinkin $$#, smell the funk

Eekin out the pours,### stain, %#@!ty drawers
Pissin down ya elevators shaft, no class, writin graf' on ya walls
It be us, $#&@ ya law, ^!$$%s my cause is "because"

No yin to my yang, it's a black thing
Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains
Took the crack game applied it to the rap game, y'all

Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?
Ya down with the syndrome: [email protected]$!ed
I think it was them swordsmen,

place them chess pieces on the boards and
Take it to square, this ain't no Yakool affair
Or a New World Disorder, got us, $#&@in the coal miner's daughter

That y'all, but not us


[Outro: kung fu sample]
During this time, I intend to teach you the Shaolin poem

The rules and commandments, that void, deceit
Cruelty and unkindness, always help the weak
Never despise the poor, always respect yourself

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