- Votes:
- Composers:
- Robert F. Diggs
- Corey Woods
 
- Genres:
- Hip-Hop
 
- Tags:
- raekwon
- rap
- wu tang
 
- See also:
Raekwon - Knuckleheadz lyrics
Intro:
 [Raekwon]
 One for you, one for me
 Two for you, one-two for me
 Three for you...
 [Ghostface]
 What? I'll smack fuck out ya
 Smack fire out your fuckin ass, what the fuck you think this is man?
 Get the fuck up outta here man
 [Raekwon] So yo matter of fact, the man is back
 [Ghostface] Think my head is madder than fuckin fire
 [Raekwon] Shit aight, this ain't even enough burn right here
 This ain't enough
 [Ghostface] Fuck it man
 [Raekwon] We gonna shoot right over there
 And yo them niggaz got the big CREAM over there
 So just chill
 [Ghostface] So let's do this the fuck up, roll up like tropical kid
 Don't play me like I got a flowerpot head kid
 Just chill man
 [Raekwon] On the real let's go get this money fast Son
 I know how we gotta do this kid
 *shots fire*
 [Ghostface] Scrungy-head motherfucker
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef
 Lay on the crime scene, sippin fine wines
 Pullin nines on, UFO's, takin they fly clothes
 They eyes closed, we gettin loot
 No doubt, check the word of mouth, unheard about
 Guns go off and now a murder bout
 I'm out
 My raps play the part like a Get Smart secret agent
 In a maze and, styles blazin, Johnny Blaze and Tony Starks in a daze and
 Rhymin, my nigga Lou Diamond will wrap it up
 We like Meth to go and fuck with Noodles
 Havin them poodles on the lockdown buyin me
 Amarett-ahs, and chewables, stackin pharmecuetical
 Rap niggaz on dust and wools
 Yo, I told you, some kill rob and fold
 The gold's untold, fuck it it beats parole
 So stroll marvelous, soul controller
 Of the whole globe, god damn I got it sewn
 And yo, whattup pop, pop the suitcase high
 And we can talk, you can walk out the fuckin building
 And get caught, save the fully inflatable
 Rap relatable, drug relatable
 Niggaz here to play with you
 A hundred dollar Rottweiler goes to spot sellers
 Guns and glocks go to niggaz who got props
 On top, jail niggaz get mad bigger
 And yo, mail a guy about a hundred pictures
 Word to momma, this rap wonderama team got drama
 Comma, plus smoke realize marijuana
 Chef may resign to boat across the Farasana
 Immaculate plus all my guns so accurate
 They get CREAM and the cuisine in QueensRaekwon - Knuckleheadz - http://motolyrics.com/raekwon/knuckleheadz-lyrics.html
 I told you, money stated with the night beams, and two rings
 Crazy fat, gettin ready to do this shit
 [Ghostface] Sniff mad shit man, what the fuck
 *car peels and crashes*
Verse Two: Ghostface Killer
 Who's the Knucklehead, wantin respect?
 Chop his fingers in the drug game, money well known
 Lead singer, humdinger, flash is the aftermath
 Here's his photograph
 Run up in his lab, take off the mask Chaz and think fast
 Don't laugh, bag the cash, grab the hash, don't forget his stash
 Grab the tear gas, and place it in his face fast
 The full blast
 ...
 Then skate to the next state
 Further upstate, I heard they got crazy weight
 Bagged up by the gates, in crates like disco breaks
 Yo look out for Jakes, give it all it takes
 Let's burn the place before we motivate
 Yo Blake, niggaz don't fink, rape his mate
 If the bitch scream, for God's sake, grab the grey tape
 It's by the plate, with the blow crushed up with the flakes
 Killer snakes, four bodies found floatin in lakes
 Drug related, paper talkin bout the kids who didn't make it
 Hits without a trace, never seen the Big C Rae and Ghostface
 Congratulations Chef, let's celebrate and sip an eighth
Verse Three: U-God
 The rap scar is on rap chrome
 Put it on seal it on, we're silicone
 Spark it on your Talkathon
 This rap phenomenon, to word is bond to the arms
 Hit me on the hip and horns, rap chaperone
 Scars tone, bar clones, war tones, raw tones
 Blowin out the door, bones but
 Your rap's fraudulent, float in these rap quarter inches
 Reinforced with suspense, be on your rap sword defense
 These microphone professional, sensational
 Fully operational, I got NIGGAZ here to play with you
 You know the steez you know my whole program
 Brothers from the No-Lands, all we want is the G's
 Guns and grams, livin fat like the Hoffa
 Mafia, sippin eatin pastas
 Layin in the house tellin the seeds about the sagas
 Before we got Germanic and thoughts got sporadic
 We grabbed golden tablets and quick guarded the Abbots
 Slugs hit the belly put tones into the telly
 Sucker tried to knock me out the box like skelly
 I smoke the weed dreams I drop top two degrees
 Honeydips spendin G's on nails and hair weave
 The crime boss, takin no loss, excessive force
 We can play the A-Train, back of the iron horse
 Yo man, knahmsayin? Fuck it man
 *car squeels and crashes twice*













