Bust a Slug Remix Lyrics

featuring Ghostface Killah, Ill Knob, Superb, Trigga

* skit for 30 seconds before beat drops *

[Chorus: Trigga of M.M.O.]

We famous decorators

Outlaws with the force, with the Money Makers

Wu-Tang, when we bang, we be regulators

Player haters can't play us, cuz the thugs obey us

Bust a slug to save us

[Joe Mafia]

Straight missle, pulse gristle, snapper crime

Poppin tops off of Anaheims, tropic refined

Extorton air time, imported from the Mason-Dixon Line

Look at my frigid eyes, fake fucks describe

Slap em paralyze, analyze the lies

Kinetic, my word is all I have, slaughter trash

Monster Mash, half ass on the war path

Suffer land, give a fuck grand, crashin the Pan Am

My squad Van Dammed, this shit was sun tanned, VA so tanned

without the Beanie rap, who? Hoodini rap

Musolini stack, Lamborghini crash, kiss the Genie lamp

Henney big, excellency, no fake shit, wrong recipe

War speciality, meet the headless heat

[Superb of American Cream Team]

Yo, we made an oath for this self, fuck every black bitch raw

Make a nation of culture teens, we takin culture back

Takin books and read it, quote the right words

Take your language back, black man it's your's

If you read the way she smoke crack, she be the most high

She settle for the most drunk and most fly

Spendin 300 on cristal or pistol

Fuckin dummy, you could've took ya bitch out

[Ghostface Killah]

Bottles goin off in the church, we broke the wine

Slapped the pastor, didn't know pops had asthma

Pulled out his blue bible, chains fell out his coat

3 condoms, 2 dice and 1 bag of dope

Ooh, Rev. ain't right, his church ain't right

Decon is a pimp, you could tell by his ice

Mother Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the number spot

Heard you got red tops out, and I want a lot"

Girlie fainted dead on the spot

2 ushers slipped $80 right out the pot

Oh shit...

[Ill Knob of K.G.B.]

The K, the G, the B, Ill Knob bring the ruckus

cuz I don't got no time for these faggots

They frontin, but I'm about to break them out the havoc with the fire

I battle water, what you order?

You would run far from the slaughter

I'm gunnin out whoever's in the order
Wu - Bust a Slug Remix - http://motolyrics.com/wu/bust-a-slug-remix-lyrics.html
The hitch out, no bitch out

I'm good and plenty, nigga get ya rich out

or nigga ditch out, for ya self and ya family

cuz I don't want nobody layin handin me

I'm livin life, profanity, insanity

because of my fame, insane

When I'm rockin on the block, I've got to push my cane

Got to live in this life, baby times is trife

Have to be on my side if you claim my wife

No knife come between us, married to my Syndicate

Niggaz see this, playa hate and try to be this

It's hard to be this and you don't want to get dissed

When you ballin up ya fist, you don't wanted to be missed

Buck! Buck! Back! Fuck! What the fuck?

[Myalansky]

This is jail, 3 burners made Tina Turner dance

Probably, you kidin me? Only my man bust side to me

I was gotta be slicin the pot, if I divide it by 3

Dicks for them niggaz that snitch, whoever shot at me

All up in my shit, pussies plottin 3 days to about a week

Wu-Synidcate most ampitated across the E-N-T

Entire, niggaz collapse and raid the empire

Where his stash at? Cryin, he broke, a dame liar

Yolk for the smoke, back room, Medallion man croke

Now yo, no joke, take it, no damn moat

Joe lock the door, pussy stay down, lay down

Yo, Napolean get the duct tape, cave him for cash flow

Biography, million my peers get painted robbery

A to Z encyclopedia, color photography

Penitentiary rhymes, salt get they ass took

Street turn, patiently speakin, you know the math

Make bitch niggaz ballerina, pull up they too-too

Smacked up in front of ya bra', what his man do?

Eyes glued to my right hand, don't rush me

What that bitch scream, runnin thru traffic like lightnin?

Fell, loud boss screamin, yellin for wifie

You see that shit, another hit, Wu-Syndicate

Myalansky, Joe Mafia and Napolean

Colie on, Marlon Brando rap, ya roly on

'97 bar, tighten storm door, war is on

'98, a twisted rate, kidnap and solemnly swore

to my boy, give my last call, pass the shoe horn

Don't shoe guys, come, we move on, told you must prove on

3 on ya bally cleaner, who clapped? Sally seen her

Black '97 beamer, bitch niggaz ballerina

They just dance

[Chorus x3]

[Outro: Trigga of M.M.O.]

We famous decorators, yea, yea

Posion Clan... *echo