Wu-Tang Clan - Projects International Remix
Raekwon the Chef
The fck?
It's just the new way of thinkin
Light up the broccoli kid
Throw the relish in my back pocket
Keep your eyes open
Push your seat back, just flow...
That's how we doin it
Bound by honest sword take over the set; rap from here to Que-bec
Throw up the tech, crash your intellect select a vet
Swimsuit mammal handle, yo every fly vandal go to project
Slam you like Hamill's wife 'fore the scandal
Wally sandal just a sample, my fertilize thoughts
Yo mad support drink a quart then bamboo
When nasty can blew, my pen sterile won't perform if I'm not lampable
Askin my man'll get you slapped down; play the anthem
Lit it who wit it champagne get it, that's the ticket
Solid nines soundin like crickets sn*tchin worker shipment
Pull the air, long d*ck it, we talk right before we left lifted
Just like a long sleeve, guess who rip it?
God Projects
Rae My survive, just like a movin target
God Projects
Rae Where live and some sell garbage that's
God Projects
Rae Try to escape the flyin shells dodgin
God New York projects
Rae I'm livin large yo, stop miragin
Method Man
Sign of the times, conspiracy to overthrow the mind
Behind every fortune there's a crime
This technique is tech-9
Blast at any Close Encounter of the Third Kind
This be the evil that man do, we dismantle, any adversary
Them all thumbs and can't handle, my flurry
Hear me, you jam all you want to scare me
Don't even kid me, s**t in my coke aimin at cha kidney
Pressure, Red Hot like Chili Pepper
Black 'n Decker, hardware avoid the leper
Five o'clock shadowboxer, hold down the sector
Bet ya bottom dollar lecture, be hard to sw*llow
Double oh-seven mark
The secret agent that Max/well and Get Smart, through entertainment
Welcome to The Killin Fields, with Johnny Dangerous
Headbanger boogie goin thru changes
God Projects
Rae My survive, just like a movin target
God Projects
Rae Where live and some sell garbage that's
God Projects
Rae Try to escape the flyin shells dodgin
God Projects
Rae I'm livin large yo, stop miragin
Ghostface Killah
Suck my d*ck it's the kid with the fat kn*b
I bust all into ya face, plus it come in globs
Quick get on your knees, with yo' sweet p*ssy let it breathe
Two fingers is all in your hole, think I can fit three
Your pink lips, spread it in s**t, let me throw my d*ck in
Grab my s**t and place it gently, on your cl*t
Ping-pong p*ssy, wide world of wombs t*ty saggin
Stomach on some scriveled up prune s**t
Too much air in your p*ssy you screamin that it's
TALKIN TO YOU DADDY, fart's breathin out your lips splashin my d*ck badly
Use vinegar, to try to tighten up your ginger
All-mighty d*ck, ran in with a cape, some call him engine
Lightning rod bob, black candy cane attatched to God
Thick, like a great adventure cigar, in your garage
Pregnant p*ssy have you fall out, like Remi on the house
Watch the teeth for slobbin my s**t
You bit it on the couch, dry p*ssy leave the friction burns
Plus beef I hone, the condom broke
b*tch you got AIDS I'm shakin in my bones
(c) 2024 jetbits.com