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Raekwon

Corey Woods (born January 12, 1970), better known by the stage name Raekwon, is an American rapper and a member of the Wu-Tang Clan. He released his solo debut, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx... in 1995, and has since recorded numerous solo albums, as well as continuing to work with Wu-Tang and providing an extensive number of guest contributions to other hip hop artist's works. more »

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(Fire extinguisher in your face, nigga)
(Yeah, yeah, nigga, that's my nigga, what up?)
(It's real)
(It's all in)

Ayo I'm done selling drugs and buying keys on consignment
I'm about to buy a lab and purchase me a lion
Drug money, it sucks, I'm in the lux, drunk as a f*ck
Dick all hard, bitch ass you butt
Was stealing all I gain, I don't know no other way
I'm cooler than the M6 play
I run with drug niggas who ya one day
One pay, one K
Sun play, some spray
Half of these niggas underage
They came with the purple T
Grape shit, some call it gray
I call it revolutionizing in the mix
My money he man now
Was shakin', don't f*ck with them snakes (nope)
Fuckin' with them fix hustle niggas is gay
If that's your thing, cold play (cold)
Don't get in my way
We got hack saws that smack jaws, betray me
'Bout to get you more
What you in this for, Ray? Chill
The official just late, give him his way
That's my nigga, no big and give him his space
If they front on us we frontin' back, piss in his face

Peace to the God, what's up?
More I'm late in the cut
Layin' in the cut with a slut
Late in the cut on the peanut butter guts
With a slut but Brazilian, half to a but
Denzel coo, stand niggas stall like, "Woo"
Whippin' that work like, "Woo"
Ric Flair, "Woo ", Ric Flair, "Woo"
I'm penguin pussy goo
Since I wage in a brand new coup
F*ck niggas suck dick 'til you strangle
Therefore hatin' on a real ass G
Like me talkin 'bout air got Anna
Say f*ck your bright but a nigga named Mike
F*ck nigga, yeah, I'm a king in Atlanta
You don't wanna be a new story on the TV channel
Talkin' 'bout last seen in Atlanta
Bitch, I take your life, sleep good that night
Crab crab legs in Savannah
I'm so Tony Montana
Nose full of coke, M16, all black hammer
Put coke in the street, in a week everything jump back
Sweet Sweden and a can of Fanta
Polo, polo had the flow, ho
I got horses on pajamas
Yeah, late night I might take flight
With three hoes like my name Santa
Yeah, yeah, I drive a Chevy and I treat it like a Phantom
I bought a '96 Impala and I named it MJG
'Cause we pimp hard and we pimp hard
And a bitch can't ride for free
(Yeah) gone

Peace to the gods
Way to hit the breaks home boy
You about to fall asleep in the car
Run a red light on me motherfucker
I'm a pull the Chevy over and reach in the glove
Speak from the blood
Kin folk, you don't wanna see my pin though
You don't wanna see me unplugged
If I pull a .9 out, over night I'll sign out
You should know I gets a bug in the rug
Get the buzz on drugs and chug a jug of sauce 'til I bust the goods
(Uh huh)
Man I could make a deacon dirty when I speak
I'm murdering, I make a mean mugging 'cause
When I lean in the cut
Listen, this 30-yard-6 when you're out of that window
Tires in the mud (uh-huh)
Got the soul of an old man, I can feel the love
So call me daddy, lay my balls on the cag
'Cause I drive 'em nuts
Don't follow in envy if you ain't following where
'Cause I'm about grinding plus
These songs that I write got life, like a Sycamore tree
Did it grow tall, get thicker, more leaves
To the boys in the Bronx
I'm losing heroin
Let 'em go ball, just give 'em more weed
Dollars in the kitchen, potpourri
Did I forget to mention I'm an emcee?
That I have to prove it on BET
And I cyphered twice but that just might be
I know
So radioactive, had a couple of radio attempts
But I don't wanna be radioactive anymore now
Than I wanna jump off a cliff
This I promise
Catfish Billy, you can put Trunk Muzik in the picture frame
You ain't gotta tell me that I made a mistake and some of that shit was lame
But all I wanna do is say, "F*ck that shit" and please accept my change
I was on the tryna people please
So people please, know my name
Now back to the metaphors
It's better for me to settle scores instead of more self-loathe
And I put tags on toes
And like I'm in the morgue and I'm giving no pedicure
Said a story now go on and set the melanol
Set sail on a pale horse with a sword
Yeah, me behold, in a white Caprice classic, pedal to the floor
Flying by the seed in my pants
'Cause I need what I need
I believe that I can go achieve what I came to achieve
And I leave you and you with the new CD in your hands
Put it in, put it in, let the 808 fill that space
Any kind of high never feels this great
You can feel the taste, you can see that smell
You can touch the moon when you hear that bass
Thank God that I got this gift, damn right and I won't shut up
But the gray hair fall down like an OG, damn right and I won't cut 'em
Man, I'm on my shit
Life is a trip when I'm jumpin' over cracks in the road
Say what you want to about this white boy
But I know the truth and rap's in his soul

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