*sounds of the street, Wu-Tang St. Ide's commercial is in the background*
(this is a best guess based on what's heard underneath Rae's conversation)
[Ghostface] Who's the Wallabe kid, dress down, could never be Son
Ricochet daily hit the deli for a cold one
May I be blessed yes? My mic is like a laser beam
that blow between the bushes, St. Ide's and I the king of things
[Cappadon] Crack the bottle of the St. Ide's, sippin it's real
and thrillin will I, drink it and we only
too be dope, you can't die, them peoples do lie
And if the street don't know, you're full of slang cane pain
[RZA] It was hot, on the spot, so I jetted up the block
I said, ock, I'm hot, let's go sit on the bay by the docks
of the black, I'm fully packed, always got my Trojan
Heads got bottles open, fill my cup till flowin
*conversation*
All that good shit
Yeah
KnowhatI'msayin, you come in, you come in lookin flavorful
Word
YouknowhatImean? You the whole shit of the whole night
But I've seen it though, knowhatI'msayin? Like I seen it
You know, my G is too futuristic for that shit, knowhatI'msayin?
Word, did you try to get a little swerve kid on?
Tried to man, youknowhatI'msayin, but she was come pullin off
Word
Word?
Just come pullin off her as her drawers
Worrrd
Fuck that bitch though, knowhatI'msayin? Shoulda, on the real
Yo yo tonight feel like a nigga gonna get burnt
Yeah yeah
It's like you hear something tomorrow right
Some like yo, blahzay blahe
It's the wind, I'm tellin you
Yeah yeah word
It's the air, I can feel it
It feel hot, it feel feel hot at night and shit like
the sun ain't even out
Yo the sun don't shine nobody, knowhatI'msayin?
Lyrics: Raekwon
Yeah
One-two, one-two, nigga
Line for line, line for line
How we get down wit da rhyme
Yo, it be a line for line, line for line
This is how we get down
Yeah, line for line, line for line
This is how we get down
Yo! Can you feel me?
Storytellin rap Magellan I ain't tellin
Them niggaz ran in the spot for sellin
Word up, pushed up, man got mushed up
Seen him at a rap show actin like fat cat though
Glasses gold, shinin like a real big boy
This nigga had mega ice on Chips Ahoy!
Cat surrounded, this political brown kid
All out the wind yo, my man walked in
Pullin mints out son had mad clientele
Order me Cristal twice Kion, chill!
Watch them niggaz, aiyyo that clique's from outta state
They bubble weight in Far Rockaway with Blake Carrington
You know the kid with the most doe-getters
And terrors on fat shit clique they rock Lo sweaters
That's my man, that's my man too
Call him up on the strength of the Wu
And watch me game, yo grab the cell
I got a heist to pull off well
At the end of the week, I'm buyin you a L
Lexus nigga, I ain't talkin bout Hancock