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Wu Tang Clan ›› Bring The Pain | |
..mrm,! bjokmm m
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Basically, can't **** with me
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Verse One:
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I came to bring the pain hardcore from the brain
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Let's go inside my astral plane
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Find out my mental's based on instrumental
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records hey, so I can write monumental
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Methods, I'm not the King
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But niggaz is decaf I stick em for the CREAM
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check it, just how deep can shit get
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Deep as the abyss and brothers is mad fish accept it
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In your Cross Colour, clothes you've crossed over
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Then got Totally Krossed Out and Kris Kross
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Who da boss? Niggaz get tossed to the side
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And I'm the dark side of the Force
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Of course it's the Method, Man from the Wu-Tang Clan
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I be hectic, and comin for the head piece protect it
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Fuck it, two tears in a bucket, niggaz want the ruckus
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Bustin at me bruh, now bust it
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Styles, I gets buckwild
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Method Man on some shit, pullin niggaz files
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I'm sick, insane, crazy, Drivin Miss Daisy
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Out her ****in mind now I got mine I'm Swayze
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Chorus:
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Is it real son, is it really real son
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Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
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Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
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Want it raw deal son, if it's really real
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Interlude: Booster
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And when I was a lil stereo [stereo]
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I listened to some champion [champion]
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I always wondered [wondered]
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Will now I be the numba one? [Tical! hahaha]
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Now you listen to de gargon [Gargon!]
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And de gargon summary
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And any man dat come test me [test me]
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Me gwanna lick out dem brains [it's like that]
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Verse Two:
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Brothers want to hang with the Meth bring the rope
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the only way you hang is by the neck nigga poke
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off the set comin to your projects
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Take it as a threat, better yet it's a promise
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Comin from a vet on some old Vietnam shit
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Nigga you can bet your bottom dollar hey I bomb shit
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And it's gonna get even worse word to God
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It's the Wu comin through sickin niggaz for they garments
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Movin on your left, southpaw em it's the Meth
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Came to represent and carve my name in your chest
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You can come test realize you're no contest
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Son I'm the gun that won that old Wild West
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Quick on the draw with my hands on the four
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nine three eleven with the rugged rhymes galore
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Check it cause I think not when this hip-hops like proper
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Rhymes be the proof while I'm drinkin 90 proof
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Huh vodka, no OJ, no straw
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When you give it to me aiy, give it to me raw
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I've learned when you drink Absolut straight it burns
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Enough to give my chest hairs a perm
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I don't need a chemical blow to pull a hoe
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All I need is Chemical Bank to pay da mo'
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What, basically that, Meth-Tical, ninety-four style
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Word up we be hazardous *car crashing* *horn passing me*
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Northern spicy brown mustard hoes
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We have to stick you
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*horn sound of car racing by*
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Chorus
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Outro:
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I'll ****in, I'll ****in cut your kneecaps off
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and make you kneel in some staircase piss
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I'll ****in, cut your eyelids off
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and feed you nuthin but sleepin pills
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You mother****ers
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[So] So **** the hoe
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Fuck the hoe
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[Look at this nigga, this mother****in]
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| | Bring The Pain Wu Tang Clan
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