- Votes:
Cotton James - Rough Cut lyrics
[Intro: Armel]
 Uh-huh, GZA, uh, RZA, uh
 [Armel]
 Listen, if ya'll can spit, we can spit, please get it together
 Cuz anything you can do, I can do better
 Your imagine material looks, hotter behind looks
 Raise the fear, no one, but self, who's shook?
 Bring the plague like the revelations in the holy book
 Who's spot you took? Duke off the hook
 I'm from the land of the crook, life quit the end
 Better known as the Brook, rather tape then lend
 There's a lot of wack records, but this ain't one of them
 DJ's off the books, go 'head put the gun at them
 All groupie M.C.'s, I'm bout to start stunnin' 'em
 Don't matter what crew, every last one of 'em
 It's gettin' crowded in here, some acts got to go
 Let's start by eliminatin' groups that can't flow
 I better meal my deal, my career with no fear
 That none of ya'll group can touch what's over here
 [Chorus: GZA]
 These rough cut metal tapes
 Quick to break your label mates, won't hesitate
 Negotiate your table stakes, you can't flow right
 Or fuck with me on no night
 Fuck the slow light, you need to get your show right
 [Prodigal Sunn]
 Yo Justice, how many M.C.'s must get pistol whipped?
 Crack faces with bottles of Crys', hollow tips gobble lips
 That's the penalty for poppin' that shit
 Vanish in a colorless whip, bags of grip
 Doo-rags and clips, tag the stripCotton James - Rough Cut - http://motolyrics.com/cotton-james/rough-cut-lyrics.html
 You had the chance to advance, I'm sorry for the holes in
 your hip
 Son, It's the way of the street merchant, live by the laws,
 die by the rules
 My gleam play the part of a fool
 Now hear these jewels from a wise king, see what my eyes seen
 Ten year supreme, the theme, we sizzle-line and triple CREAM
 My grip'll off that digital bream, visual scene
 Roll footage on your video screen
 Globe patrol, Two On The Road, we never fold
 Snub react, GZA mack eliminate tracks
 Stimulate phat, Sunzini, nigga, gifted and black
 Now watch me mack to the kingdom of rap
 [12 O'Clock]
 Give me a beat, nigga dealin' battles like a thief
 Done killed more niggas than Jason in part 3
 Stay Wu, on the graveyard and this label
 Dum dums, that battle 12 O'Clock, now it's able
 So what, looked up and made the bitches clap
 That was because my style's clothes, not the raps
 Ain't that shit, props for the clothing
 Should of brought a mirror, cuz lyric wasn't rollin'
 My rhymes is all that and yours ain't shit
 And at a party, your bitch takin' crazy flicks of me
 She said I was nigga celebrity
 But I'm from the slums, with the bums drinkin' Hennesey
 Take a sip of some Jamaican rum
 Put fire to my lung, tongue, teeth and gums
 When it comes out my mouth, shit's hot and it burns
 Make fools out of bitches like I'm Howard Stern
[Chorus 2X]











