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..::История::.. ..::Фотографии::.. ..::Музыка::.. ..::Биографии::.. ..::Тексты песен::.. ..::Дискография::.. ..::Интервью::.. ..::Файлы::.. ..::Wallpapers::.. ..::Видео::.. |
Tical (1994)
Mr.
Sandman Intro:
RZA (singing by Blue Raspberry) *bees
buzzing* *man
screaming in torture* This
is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) Serious,
the craziest ...
d-da, (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day-daDanger,
dangerous... style Verse
One: RZA Lyrical
shots from the glock bust
bullet holes on the chops, I want the number one spot With
the science, of a giant New
York defiant, brutal like domestic violence Silence
of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed in Foes
grab their chairs, to be mad as Ralph Cramden Others
come with shit, as silly as Art Carney But
my Tetley triplizes, more kids than Barney Never
need for stress there's three bags of sess a
damn I rest, playing chess, yes My
thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn When
you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then I
get vexed, layin phat trax on Ampex Morphous
God, gettin drunk, off a Triple X Violent
time, I got more love than valentines The
violent mind, I blast with a silent nine Verse
Two: Inspectah Deck My
hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short Brains
get stained like tablecloths when I let off Powerful,
poetry pushed past the point of no return Leavin
mics with third-degree burns Let
me at 'em, I cramp your style like a spasm Track
em through the mud then I bag em We're
screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my balls and
I be raw, for four score plus seven more I
strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage like
hail, electrifying the third rail Peep
the smash on paragraphs of ruckus Wu-Tang
(Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck wit) Verse
Three: Method Man Hot
time, summer in the cityMy people represent, get busy The
heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen I
gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listen Enemy,
is the industry got me flippin I
don't give a fuck tell that bitch and a nigga I'm
killin, snipin, catchin murder cases Desert
Storm-in, I be searchin for oasis As
I run a mile with a racist Pullin,
swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet Peace
to the number seven Everybody
else get the fo'-nine-three-eleven (Mr.
Sandman bring me a good dream) I
don't know what's going on if
you can take us there... Verse
Four: Street Thug Yo,
watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival My
flow lights up the block like a homicidal murder,
underground beef for the burger P.L.O.,
criminal thoughts you never heard of I
switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch I
shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt Smith Caution,
niggaz best to be careful crossin the
street, before they end up layin in a coffin Don't
sleep, niggaz tend to forget, however Peep
this -- my nigga Case lives forever Verse
Five: Carlton Fisk What
evil lurks in the heart of men? It
be the shadow, street-life, flowin again I
had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure Only
one kid would knock the hinges off the door The
jerk tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck Thirteen
pounds on the table plus a tec Just
when I said, "Where the fuck's the cream?" Another
jerk came out the kitchen with the M-16 He
tried to cock it, blast these shots like, rockets Crushed
his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket My
move for the table was swift, I got my hostage (The
nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged it Niggaz
said, "Carlton youse a ill motherfucker" Cause
I made it look like they both killed each other And
I'm out (Mr.
Sandman bring me a good dream) (Mr.
Sandman bring me a good dream) |
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