Wu-tang Clan

Wu-tang Clan - Rushing Elephants lyrics

Yo, yo, yo, what up kid? Yo, these niggaz is back, son

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) I'm telling you, spit that, done it nigga

Yeah... yeah... yeah, yeah, I seen it like a Zenith, man

You hear me man? Word up, man, ya'll know what it is

It's on again, man, for real, Top Gun, what what

Aiyo, we came through thumping like elephants

The new Range is super-charged, I remains intelligent

Back to the formula, lord, hard grammar

This is God school, make sure the lobby ain't jammed up

Excalibur swords, T-Rexes, bibles of rhymes

We in the lunchroom, weed and veggies for breakfast

Polo campus, sicker lances, the crisp

Hundred dollar kick niggas, that be showing you hand steps

Back to the dormatory, where niggas

Broke my forearm and index finger, now you write glory

True holding my flag, it's all engraved in my blade

So when I wave it, you gon' say Rae mad

Now it's 28 Days Later, now Wu's up, do something, you can't

It's blood in my eye, I might get amped

To rip something down, the billboard holders is back

So when you see me, you gon' say he gets down

From darkness to DNA, I move with my brother

And we resonate, energy that shifts in colors

Bringing MC's punishment, then I'm done with it

The meter leave way on the fast break, I run with it

It was not a hobby, but a childhood passion

That had started in the lobby and was quicky fashioned

Every line to line, bar for bar is clockwork

Hazardous and powerful enough to have your block hurt

Check the total amount of MC's inflicted

With torture, from moving with work that's restricted

We criticize producers til they joints are right

Then acupuncture the track with pinpoints of light

Hitting them from well conceiled firing positions

With explosiveness that'll make the deaf listen

Drastic, pyroclastic, connected with the same old

Down the dangerous slopes of an active volcano

Blitz like the Green Bay Packers, sack like the linebackers

Hang with niggas, like redneck crackers

Strangle cold bottles of Beck's, like a vexed German

Duck low behind the car, my tech burning

Neck burning, from eight karats of sunlight

Absorbed, in the grill, Big Pun like

Lord of the Wu-Tang sword, know what that means?

Like J.R. Tolkien, it's the Lord of the Rings

This is my man, Chef, auto, like Grand Theft Auto

The 18th letter, followed by the mark of Zorro

Plus A, not for apple, but I pack an apple

Shorty try to buck back, and knock me off the saddle

Caramel, pecan, sundae, Pregline

Plump breasts, was filled with saline

Her big booty cousin, nasty Nadine

Get you on the floor, whore tried to double team

Is he still that nucca? Is he in the hood like that?

Is he really strapped? Will he really split yo' shit?

I thought you said he rap? Pull up in the yard, ten sets

He ain't flexing, microphone ripping, heat holding

Who testing? Rope-a-dope his black lotus

Can't quote this, chat with the sword tongue

Duck when the axe is swinging, wild Apache drum

Crazy Horse kicking his thoughts, he won't quit

Can't tell 'em nothing, he grown, give the man room

Space was demanded, beat banging through the speaker

Voice, heat seek missle, guided at the listener

Swing to the gospel, catch up and wet at the brothel

Unstoppable, direction of my flow, optional

To the ear, depending on the current of air, the crowd's in

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

Comments