Older Gods lyrics

Artist  : Wu Tang Clan 
Song : Older Gods



 Send "Older Gods" Ringtone to your Cell 

 [Verse One: Ghostface Killah]

Aiyyo I roll like a bat out of hell
Evil acapell's fly spittin out of my grill
Before I hit the sky with springtime colors
Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads double dutch
this
They carve it in they wrist, pales berry blazes
Straighten the crumbs left on the stove, clothes
in my lady hair
Plus yours the look gold God, the old tainted
bald technique
Got these vestibules designer niggaz in they
whips
jumpin out they seats, eighteen, Bronzeman Part
II
We like Dorothy Hamill on ice
We in your hood we might circle, hats down low in
the Range
Switch lanes, change my tire, peel out
Real loud on the stage yo, I shitted on your hood
kid
I shitted on your hood, got to your burner too
late
I'm lookin real good, draped out
Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your
girlfriend, c'mere
Oh shit, you my man's niece, the gourmet pocket
twenty
bombs made of clay, Sexcapades take place
We f**ked in forty-eight shades might walk up in
your studio
time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to
that style
Hand me the matches now

[Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef]

Aiyyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this
Niggaz bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana
twist
E shakes, puffin on lye, feedin the seed's plate
Pullin out, old dirty eights to rob gates
Major wake up, the kid telltales, make a nigga
head wake up
Beats break, the nigga would take off his time
Honolulu status, gladdest
the rich rock cabbage and dollar vans grands
That nigga mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
Niggaz came clumped out
Just came home, now they bunked out
Money be longer than triple life
til the sun burn out, that's my word
Move it with the burner out
Fidel way of thinkin, roll with the Mac bent
Ac-10
Most of my team, Five Percent check what the live
said
Rollin with Guess vests pedestrians yo
holdin my nuts, f**kin thousand dollar lesbians

[Ghost] Yo, the Older God put me on and
had to rock this
[both]  Maintain Three-Sixty Lord live
prosperous
[Ghost] It only takes a lesson a day, just
to analyze life
[both]  one time in the respectable mind
[repeat 2X]

[Verse Three: The Genius/GZA]

Let the shot spark, soon as his pit bull barks
Tire scars from skid marks leaves from jams in
school parks
Witness, forget his, original statement
Even in protection programs there's no escapement
Gunned down, we in town, hit king from seven
crowns
Spent rounds catch him while he rhyme in the
Zebra Lounge
Wounded, back in the eighty-three summer heat
Up in three-oh-nine park, rhymin off the
drummer's beat
I stalk the city streets demonstratin mic wrecks
All lookin stank, I ain't playin wit a full deck
And as they nervously stare, I know they scared
They saw the coming of Wu, the neon in Times
Square
Household name, assassin, killa bee
Mill to the grain, that posess the Wu, trilogy
Quick to spot those that bite camoflouge and
blend
Those that got styles, they got identical twins
Don't stretch the small thing, copycats are
finnicky
without skills, they master the art of mimicry
But I go line for line on the whole page
Your unspotted life on the mic is old age

[*rocket fired, whistles off and explodes,
breaking glass*]