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shyheim - wake up show freestyle lyrics
[shyheim]
this is on some cash rules everything around me type thought
yo bust it yo, yo
we was chillin on the ave, buggin out lookin dap
and these four cold boys rolled up in a cab
they pulled out a tool, said get against the wall
f’ that, i’d rather brawl than to go out at all
my man pushed back -blaow- he pulled the trigger
nah g not on sin, that’s my main n-gg-
his body hit the floor, blood covered the ground
how that sound? i didn’t even get my last pound
the red glare with his tears made me shed
now i’m fed, my right hand man could be dead
h-ll no, i couldn’t let em flee that ain’t me
or how me and my crew lounge and be
so we dash with a rugged child on his -ss
in the gr-ss his life is now come to p-ss
the fam made him trip, aww sh-t the gun slip
my man picked up the burner and emptied the clip
in his back, no slack jack, with sound to retreat back
wipe the gat and pack it in a napsack
yo be out cause 5-0 is soon to come
you get arrested and bagged for murder one
i’m in the house with bishop, the rza, the gza
represent kid you know how it goes dizza
[prince rakeem & rza]
i’ma set it off for the gza then gza gonna finish his-a
set it right here from the beginning? aiiight bet check it
cash rules everything around me
cream get the money, dollar dollar bill y’all, check it
i make a rugged bl–dy spectacle
technical feast where beats h-ts like a kick to your t-st-cl-s
n-gg-s remind me of vegetables
so i’ma stir fry your brain like the incredible edible
egg, i got mad cream between bread
rip it on, p-ss the bone, let’s get stoned like fred
flintstone when i roam boy it’s evident
we only puff on the leafs with the ganja scent
i be the mean black gugger bust a slug in your mug
watch the blood overflood your head like beer suds
the temple that i am in i gots the mental rhymin
while chumps try to pump the styles of simple simon
i be the rza, yo i gets bizza with my lizza
here be my nizza, the gza
live in effect on kmel boy
[the genius & gza]
yeah, and you don’t stop yo
callin all cars, callin all cars, lyrical psycho
armed and dangerous, leavin mad scars on those
who are found bound, gagged and shot
while i blast the spot n-gg-s took off like astronauts
difficult see even your best can’t come on down
you’re the next contestant
get your non-lyrical rhymin -ss a spankin
i’m catchin wreck, gettin more respect than aretha franklin
avenue and putnam, the rhyme wreckin center
bacardi and rum through those cold days of winter
i used to warm up the cipher with a rhyme that was hyper
than your average jfk sniper
so yo yo, don’t even start it
i roll like kaufmann, lay that -ss out like carpet
25 rhymes a square yard
i hit em so hard he wake up sayin “that wasn’t even fair god”
stop the stutterin boy, save your place for the 5-0
then praise the lord you’re alive bro
i release stacks, you premeditate the grab
you couldn’t catch it so you bounce back to your lab
just to look for what, wack rhymes you couldn’t finish
yeah, i know forgot to eat your spinach
here’s a can, for those who wanna sleep, pills
cold snorin while they slept on my deep skills
that originated back in shaolin, an endangered island
shorties losin blood by the gallons
[shyheim]
yo i gotta go after that boy
after the gza then we go to a commercial whatever y’all wanna do
check it, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
you better look out kid cause i’m the wu-tang’s smallest artist
when i come through n-gg-s be jettin like i’m narcotics
i’m the shorty of the bus but yet i hit the hardest
when i rolled upon your squad you showed me where your heart is
you start to snitch like a b-tch cold droppin dimes
i cut that -ss short like a tree of alpine
but i’m a lumberjack black and a matter of fact
i flip that track like 2 kilos of crack packs
i lit up quick like a 4-fifth automatic
who got static, like spike lee i gotta have it
i gave it to your -ss raw like a proud f-ggot
i keep it movin like i did on my first lp
i stay true to the grain of g.p.
word to my mother i can never be a sucker
i die hard too, yippie-ki-yay m-th-f-cke
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