Testo Criminology - Raekwon
Testo della canzone Criminology (Raekwon), tratta dall'album Only Built 4 Cuban Linx
"I told you a long time ago, you fuckin' little monkey, not to fuck me"
"Ay ay, who the fuck you think you talkin' to, huh? (You wanna fuck wit-)"
"Who the fuck you think I am, your fuckin' bellboy?"
"You wanna go to war? You wanna go to war, okay?" (Comin' up on half a mil', we build)
For real, y'all
Takin' you on another one, son
Uhh, Julio Iglesias
Makin' C.R.E.A.M. like that nigga
Yo, (Blaow!) first of all, son, peep the arson
Many brothers I be sparkin' and bustin' mad light inside the dark
Call me dough snatcher, just the brother for the rapture
I hang glide, holdin' on strong, hard to capture
Extravagant, RZA bake the track and it's militant
Then I react like a convict and start killin' shit
It's manifested, the Gods work like appliances
Dealin' in my cypher I revolve around sciences
The 9th chamber, leave you trapped inside my hallway
You try to flee but you got smoked up by the doorway (Blaow! Blaow!)
No question, I send your ass back right to the essence
Your whole frame is smothered in dirt, now how you restin'?
While I'll be trapped by sounds, locked behind loops
Throwin' niggas off airplanes 'cause cash rules (Cash rules)
Everything around me, black, as you can see
Swallow this murder one verse like God degree
Then analyze my soundtrack for satisfaction
You adapt like a flashback chain reaction (Lace them niggas, son)
AK's black, bust back like 70 MACs
I'm all that, street niggas knowin' my steez, black
Ron G, you know he coincide with me, see
Marvelous menace fo' society
But anyway, let's toast, champagne thoughts with Ghost
I max the most shotguns through the nose
Fuck rap, hip-hop put me on top
'Lo wears and Tommy Hil' fly shit with a knot
The witty unpredictable live shit, drive-by shit
Do or die shit, I'll take your lye and shit
And then you know, I'm runnin' through the penal
Foul, fall through, child was wild
The old lady snitched, but fuck it, you know what?
One love, kid, no, I'm not doin' a bid
Too much to get for what? 'Cause six niggas got stuck
And the nigga chain was truck?
Yo, fuck that, criminology rap, sneakers stay
Jet black floatin' in the flyest Ac', nigga (Bring it, yeah)
Much love go to New York City
All my Tommy Hil', ice rockin' niggas
Credits
Writer(s): Robert F. Diggs, Dennis David Coles, Corey Woods, Russell Patterson, Stuart Bascombe, Leroy O'niel Jackson, Patrick P. Adams
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