Verses - Wu-Tang Clan, GZA, LA the Darkman, Ras Kass & Scaramanga Shallah: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Wu-Tang Clan, GZA, LA the Darkman, Ras Kass & Scaramanga Shallah

Verses

8,655

On Tour

Hip-Hop/Rap

Verses was released on October 18, 2005 by Babygrande Records as a part of the album Wu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture

Song Details

AlbumWu-Tang Meets The Indie Culture

Release DateOctober 18, 2005

LabelBabygrande Records

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM84

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Wu-Tang Clan

Rap

GZA

Performer

LA the Darkman

Performer

Ras Kass

Performer

Scaramanga Shallah

Scaramanga Shallah

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

J. Austin

Songwriter

K. Sæther

Songwriter

G. Grice

Songwriter

P. Collington

Songwriter

L. JACKSON

Songwriter

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Wu-Tang Clan

Producer

GZA

Producer

LA the Darkman

Producer

Ras Kass

Producer

Scaramanga Shallah

Scaramanga Shallah

Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Yeah

Yeah, Sham's nine times ultra

Wu-Tang

Herb's three times great, uh

Six times ill

Rest in peace O.D.B.

Gza

Ras Kass

WU universal

Legendary

[Verse 2]

Now it's the real beginning of the papers and Shams

Spit that heat rock that make fiends make vapors of gram

Sham's is Raiders fan

Rock big cables of sands

Bally's or Trumps, I got the mac ten

[Verse 3]

We can hit the alley with iron and thump or take it to the hands

Like the Duran and Leonard

**** goin' no mas

When the bullets go in 'em

Ya dealin' with a knight stick choker

The ice pick poker

Trust, you ain't like this joker

[Verse 4]

In the set, devoted to opening your neck

With the tec, as you sit in the Lex

Your next move is slippin', your last move is shittin'

As your body gets soft, the shotty went off

Lil' soldier, you're outta position

[Verse 5]

Guns go off

Sham's is a Raiders fan

A rhymin' gallop reporter, columns are lost

White five, black five with dollars to toss

Twisted by the dark side of the force

[Verse 6]

Black biscuit, by park side in a Porsche

You're off sides in the fort

We are survivors of the war of good and evil

I'm in the hood, in the hood with a Desert Eagle

With my Brooklyn peoples, now feel it

[Verse 7]

Darkman, my persona's like Tony Montana

How he used to sniff coke, how I puff marijuana

Try, play me today, I'ma kill you mañana

From, far with the K, or up close with the llama

[Verse 8]

I'm like an African king in a castle in Ghana

Chest drippin' with jewels, one hell of a rhymer

Studied lessons in Medina, building with an old timer

So, I, always been wise ever since a young minor

[Verse 9]

Get cream by any means, follow Malcom X theme

So, I'm often posted, in a window with that thing

Got unlimited support from the Sing-Sing regime

I'm Hannibal Smith and they like the A-Team

[Verse 10]

Keep my head on the swivel, when I serve a dope fiend

Upgraded to a digital, from a triple beam

Fuckin' with me, you better be real as you can be

La Trapacandi, a well known YG

[Verse 11]

Whoever say Ras Kass don't spit fire, he a liar

That's like your favorite rap star claiming he gon' retire

When you mention me, not about penitentiary

Rims and rhyme skills both twenty second century

[Verse 12]

Ahead of my time, school **** like Timbuktu

'Cause I'm original, like Black Falasha Jews

Velours by BUFU, buy us, fuck you

Try us, fuck you

[Verse 13]

You die, y'all got gats, but him buck too, ****

Sip the Grey Goose and ponder

Then order room service in Hotel Rwanda

Reminder to honor these street scholars

Who ask why U.S. Defense is twenty precent of the tax dollar

[Verse 14]

Bush gave six point four-six billion to Halliburton

For troop support efforts in Iraq

Meanwhile, the hood is hurting

Please believe that

The rape over, Cheney talking forty-five dollars for a case of soda

[Verse 15]

Draining tax payers, eighty-five thousand dollar oil filters

But won't pay they soldiers, Halliburton workers make

Fourteen thousand dollars a month

Privates earn thirteen G's a year

[Verse 16]

Plus two-twenty-five extra, taking fire in combat

Recruit all the **** that die from where I'm at

Eighteen years old, told to kill where Saddam at

But can't have a gat, to protect where my mom's at

[Verse 17]

I love the crunk, so what?

Plus, I'm gangsta enough to piss in Pimpin' Ken's pimp cup

Rack a gauge and pump it up

Hot bitches still get fucked, **** just want a forty and a blunt

[Verse 18]

Yo, these youngsters, they grow up on the block

With the product in they socks and the fully loaded Glocks

Too many die in vain, and it's a cryin' shame

The murders and the hustles, won't stop as they shoot for the top

[Verse 19]

Acquiring power through growth and development

On they most dangerous missions, excuses were irrelevant

The brutality of war, never changes

And the out of control desire to win, makes it dangerous

[Verse 20]

Fire engulfed the set, they feel the threat, greater than

What they ever had experienced yet

Indictments, sparked excitement, and the thrill to kill

Suddenly, they felt the need for a challenge and their field

[Verse 21]

The great boundaries of both man and machine

Can have one at the point, to murder all in between

Yellow tape scene, dead teen, the mob was his idol

Givin' a grim new meaning to the neighborhood's title, what's up

Written by: G. Grice, J. Austin, K. Sæther, L. JACKSON, P. Collington

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