15 listopada 1968

Urodził się Ol' Dirty Bastard (wł. Russell Tyrone Jones); raper, członek grupy Wu-Tang Clan. Zmarł 13 listopada 2004 roku w wieku 35 lat.
[56. rocznica]

Z albumu Wu-Tang Forever (1997) pochodzi utwór „Reunited”.

Wu-Tang Clan – Reunited

Najczęściej występujące słowo: to (14 razy)

Tekst piosenki

język tekstu: angielski
It's Wu motherfuckers, ah Wu-Tang motherfuckers Reunited, double LP, world excited Struck a match to the underground, industry ignited From metaphorical parables to fertilize the Earth Wicked niggas come, try to burglarize the turf Scattin' off soft-ass beats them niggas rap happily Tragically, that style, deter-iate, rapidly Uncompleted missions, throwin' your best known compositions You couldn't add it up, if you mastered addition Where I come from, gettin' visual is habitual De-mon-strate walkin' on hot coal, in rituals I splash the paint on the wall, it formed the mural He took a look, saw the manifestation of it, was plural Rhymin' while impaired, dart hit your garment Pierced your internal, streamlined compartments Just consider the unparallel advantage Of a natural disaster that's impossible to manage Bitch ass niggaz counterfeit the funk I smoke the feet of the skunk, tree top of the trunk Moonshine drunken monk, Ya head, get shrunk The touch of skunk, I be fuckin' bitches by the chunk My name black, do words wanna play in my dirt? Bitch stop my momma serve, free lunch from the church I come like a thousand doves Bitch you quiet at the bus, makin' the fuss, I gots tough love Unglove the news, watch a nigga transfuse Dirty add to the fuse, heavy at the booze I don't walk, I get carried Gold and platinum frisbee's on my wall, lookin' properly But come-ly, I U.F.O. you Wright Brothers The Indian that sold Manhattan to the white man My grandfather, step up and get knocked right the fuck out Come to the cook-out, Dirty bitch at the mouth You scared? Run around like a plane about to crash Wu-Tang motherfuckers Wu-Tang motherfuckers Yeah, and RZA Yo, yo, The Riddler, funny bone tickler, freak Caligula Bigger dick sex enigma pistol fertilize your stigma Stink box, order from pink dot MC's get stuck on ink blots as I plug to the sink box Wu-Tang Incorp. take your brain on spacewalk Talk strange like B-jork, great hero Jim Thorpe How can I put it? Life is like video footage Hard to edit, directors, that never understood it I'm too impulsive, my deadly corrosive dosage Attack when you least notice through explosive postage I don't play, the rap souflee saute for the day Ruler Zig-Zag-Zig A, Leg Leg Arm Head Spread like plague, we drink Hennessee by the jig I got the golden egg plus the goose Eighty proof, Absolut, mixed with cranberry fruit juice Ginseng boost, I got yo' neck in a noose Keep my money wrinkled, the rap star twinkle killer instinct Sixteen bar nickle sell more copies than Kinko Grow like a fetus with no hands and feet to complete us And we return like Jesus, when the whole world need us Is it appetite for destruction Slap a murder rap on this production, I touch somethin' trust nothin' Iron Lung, Twisted Metal I see em duckin' my dart gun, bustin', from every angle Worldwide total carnage, the sickest flow That be code named Agent Orange, killin' you slow It's only right you pay homage To those that's bout to blow like that shit up your nose, solid As a rock when I strike target, verbal Be screamin' on you like a drill sergeant, her-bals Got me where I wanna be right now, don't know the time Check the hour on your sundial, watch me shine Drunk off of cheap wine Each line be on point when I speak mine On behalf of my crew, Su, enter the Wu Thirty-Six more deadly Chambers, to take you through It's Wu motherfuckers, Wu-Tang motherfuckers

Autorzy piosenki: Robert Diggs, Gary Grice, Russell Jones, Clifford Smith

1968