Duck Season

Duck Season

[Raekwon the Chef]
  Scrape y’all motherfuckers
  This is my word, when you see us
  When you see us flashing and shining
  And building and adding on
  Y’all niggaz just watch it, hear me
  Only ones that who we got respect for
  Is them niggaz that we say peace to
  Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on
  Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again
  Pirahna niggaz bite dick, yo Son, it’s on again
  What up, he made a move, try to assist it
  Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I’m a bishop
  Back to the novel, you Son, it’s logical
  How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle
  Now my proposal, it’s the global
  >From California to courts, it’s over God, so taste the tofu
  Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November
  Shorty called me Santa in December
  But guess what, my Wally’s got messed up
  Autograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest up
  We scrape that, Land O’ Lake that
  My dolo rapper get you sent back
  Represent the gentlemens who bent that
  Flash medallions like Italians
  La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a poster
  Flex this, Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement
  So keep the bust the gun Boo
  Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents
  Add on, the billboard sloan
  Check it now, you get the gold dick award
  It’s like jail and it’s the sixth floor
  Test me, floating in the S.E., now let’s see
  Half of y’all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree
  Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo
  Stay militant kid, push it like bolo
  You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it
  Face one, I’m guaranteed to make you take one
  Please, y’all niggaz money getting low
  But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough
  Tired of y’all, mostly inspired by y’all
  So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down
  Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, battle for cream nigga
  You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing
  I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings
  No more said, knew your chump ass was dead
  When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead
  It’s Wu-Tang nigga, ain’t nothing changed nigga
  Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game
  Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian
  Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it’s the surgeon slugs
  still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles
  We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds
  We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility
  In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities
  Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary
  Microphone post tone like a rotary phone
  Age of poems and poetry, old sloans
  Explosive head bullets, black hooded
  Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips
  And know how to put it in you
  Surrender your goods and your merchandise
  For no purchase price, I’m certainly a heist
  For your ice and curtains and vice
  Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society
  Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety
  And lead them to defy me, diary…
  I need 18 points for my next joint
  This high and mointed king, to make a deal
  I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing
  To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping
  I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars
  And built with thousands of scholars
  My life saga from the hildred of horor
  Legal kid brown in Nicaragua
  Gave birth to MC’s, seeds and bank robbers
  We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips
  And my dick’s been sucked by the finest lips
  Stand to tell the contestants, in the world’s best repressment
  But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons
  Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in
  Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections
  [Method Man]
  This rhyme has no limitations, this time there’s no hesitation
  Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it’s yours
  The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I’m flowing for
  It’s rhyme and reason, bite the bullet
  Niggaz is foul in this duck season
  We add odds till we even motherfucker
  Bad asses, high times, lower classes
  Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses
  Bring it to him, room service, under pressure
  And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy
  Ticallion, we ain’t worried
  Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty
  Picture this, watch the birdy
  This bastards is rolling dirty
  With sharp pins that be stabbing you
  Pins and needles, needles and pins
  Nuff said, dick in your mouth
  Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds
  Ducking the feds
  [Raekwon the Chef]
  Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son
  Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords
  That’s right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight
  Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate
  Reconstruction, that’s the whole science of mine
  Production, ya’ll niggas guess who stuck son
  Left his meth son, switch, finger itch
  Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y’all niggaz snitch
  Youse a loner, Adidas shell top with lye
  sipping Corona, read the rev report then bone her
  Buy you some jewels, here’s some food
  Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo
  We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom
  Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs
  Chill, y’all niggaz know what time it is
  James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and
  check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan
  He cought a slug for lying
  Yeah you was lying, where’s the cash, crying
  Militia, rolling in position
  Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian
  Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks

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