paroles de chanson 9mm (remix) - Ghostface Killah , Wu-Tang Clan
(Feat.
Wu-Tang
Clan)
[Intro:
RZA]
Bob
Digi,
U
G.O.D,
Raekwon
the
Chef,
the
Inspektah
Deck
M.E.T.H.O.D.
(Man),
the
B.O.B.B.,
straight
up,
Masta
Killa,
the
Gza,
the
Genius.
It's
the
Ol'
D-d-dza-za-za
Diiiirty
Bastard!
[Music
starts]
[ODB:]
Straight
Up.turn
it
up,
the
headphones,
turn
it
up.yo
you
here
me?
[Cappadonna:]
Wutup
Toney?
[Ghostface:]
Wsup
don'
don'.
[ODB:]
All
the
way
up.
[Ghost:]You
know
how
we
do.
[Cappa]
Let's
get
this
paper
together.
[Ghost:]
You
motherfuckin'
right
Pa,
uh
huh.
[Cappa:]
That's
right,
c'mon
nigga.
[ODB:]
That's
as
far
as
it
goes?
[Ghost:]
Sound
about
to
go
off
on
some
real
live
Wu-shit,
uh
huh
[Cappa:]
W-T-C
[RZA:]
Ghost-FACE!
[Ghost:]
Lemme
give
y'all
the
bullshit
hook
for
y'all
niggas,
check
it
out...
[Hook:
Ghostface
Killah]
The
burners
in
the
stash,
we
about
the
cash
We
got
females
that
got
it
like
that
The
golden
childs
that
bone
the
crowd
See
niggas
in
the
place
that
bit
my
style
Well
I'm
a
singer,
dancer,
we
bulletproof
brothers
Wu-Tang
got
the
answerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...
Cuz
if
I
had
a
chance,
to
do
it
again
I
will
still
keep
the
heat
in
my
pants,
uh
[Ghostface
Killah:]
Y'all
be
nice
to
the
crackheads,
everybody
listen
up
I
shot
one
of
my
bitches,
the
hoe
ain't
trick
enough
Word
life
to
big
screen
Don,
tapping
dustbones
out
With
starwriters
like
I
fucked
Celine
Dion
Stuck
everything
that's
the
god's
honest
beyond
We
airin'
niggas
out
that's
the
type
shit
that
we
on
Official
Wu-Tang
headbanger
Flood
your
space
with
big
waves
like
you
didn't
set
an
anchor
[Raekwon
the
Chef:]
Yo,
I
drink
heavy
gallons
of
Crew,
play
the
big
part
Niggas
got
squid
on
the
grill,
selling
kids
Clarks
Finesse
notes,
yo,
the
Guess
on
with
the
best
pose
Yellow
swede
one
matching
hat
with
the
grey
gun
Niggas
be
rhymin'
for
nothing,
then
my
team
pull
up
We
all
throw
down
y'all
broke
niggas
stay
frontin'
Lines
come
digital
stupid,
plus
my
team
got
'Nuff
jury
on,
bet
I'm
still
live
and
I'm
coopin'
Two
of
my
silverbacks
run
through
a
pack
of
your
wolves
Front
on
react
and
sippin'
Cog-i-nac
so
relax
dude
Know
I'm
with
these
cracks
dude
[ODB:]
Yo,
1,
2...
Dirt
McGirt!
Solid
tone
smith
with
5th
shots,
lick
shots
Leave
your
head
like
a
Shaolin
monk
with
6 dots
Brooklyn,
Zoo,
Zoo
(Yo)
Brooooklynnnnnnn...
ZOO!
(Yo!)
[Cappadonna:]
It's
the
return
of
Bin
Laden,
grab
your
armor
Smash
pretty
boy
niggas,
crush
they
karma
Eat
bones
with
alligators,
roll
deep,
with
my
entourage
My
whole
crew's
fresh
out
the
bars
Diggler,
AKA
the
Cab
Driver
Drop
him
off
in
the
middle
of
fire
Dirty
Island,
drag
bodies
to
the
murderland
Knock
niggas
out
hurtin'
my
hand
[Method
Man:]
I
remember
in
the
elevators
when
we
was
playin'
corners
Now
we
play
the
corners
and
the
cops
is
stayin'
on
us,
(uh)
Staten's
where
the
war
is
Where
the
court
system's
running
out
of
warrants
Where
TNT
be
jumping
out
the
Taurus
For
real
I
can't
call
it
You
see
I
love
Lucy
cuz
she
Lawless
Exactly
like
that
1-0-3-0-4
is
Snitch
niggas
swallow
your
tongue
Already
know
the
island
I'm
from
And
y'all
don't
want
no
problems
with
them
[Genius/GZA:]
We
got
a
history,
full
of
lightning
victories
Conceptual
breakthrough
it
ain't
no
mystery
Long
vision,
from
giants
in
every
way
Rap
czars,
magnificent
flows
for
every
day
From
the
East
to
the
ville,
from
the
West
to
the
hills
Incredible
rhymes,
encouraging
skill
From
rat
packs,
the
smallest
crews
were
enormous
They
hit
'em
fast,
with
an
effortless
performance
MCs
start
fleeing
in
flocks
Especially
those
that's
more
sensitive
to
heat
and
shock
[Inspektah
Deck:]
We
grindin',
down
to
the
bone
My
name
grounded
in
stone
I'm
Mr.
Violence
we
loungin'
with
Chrome
Mr.
Violence
we
lounge
in
his
home,
hit
the
housing
on
Rome
Shining
like
a
hundred
thousand
in
stones
Move
mountains
with
poems,
got
a
jones
for
dinero
1-6-zero
my
songs
we
throwin'
elbows
The
hoes
cling,
sho
thing,
we
know
kings
Only
dime
dikes,
with
minds
right,
we
choose
Queens
[Masta
Killa:]
Yeah
we
wild
like
rockstars
who
smash
guitars
Yo
son
split
his
face
with
the
toast,
he
ain't
Ghost
It's
no
joke
iron
coat
rife
him
with
the
stroke
One
toke
brains
float,
shot
to
the
throat
Before
the
smoke
hit,
witness
the
killing
On
the
crime
scene
Body
on
the
block
Eyes
open
from
the
shock
Of
being
popped
in
the
neck
Yet
he
still
had
a
lit
cigarette
between
his
fingertips
Danger
when
you
step
into
the
chamber
with
the
master
Disaster,
gotta
blast
ya,
cuz
I
hafta
[U-God:]
The
rat
pack
is
back
from
the
island
of
Stat'
Leave
you
cursed
off,
cuz
you
worship
the
gat
The
first
one
to
snap
drunk
off
the
Smirnoff
Blow
the
bouncer's
ear
off,
let
him
floss
he
the
boss
Handcuffed,
to
the
turntables
like,
Wizard
Theodore
See
it's
pure,
let
iy
rain
curly
ounces
Bang
him
with
the
thing
that
hang
from
the
trousers
You
don't
want
no
drama,
I'm
flaming
fast
That
nigga
jumped
up
and
did
the
Damon
Dash
(Dash.)
[GUNSHOT]
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