Duck Seazon (feat. Raekwon, RZA & Method Man)

Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggas on the swarm again

Pirahna niggas bite dick, yo Son, it's on again

What up, he made a move, try to assist it

Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop

Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical

How you figure god, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle

Now my proposal rips the global

From California to courts, it's over God so, taste the soul food

Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November

Shorty called me Santa in December

But guess what, my Wally's got messed up

Autograph pressed up what, blessed enough to blow your rest up

We scrape that, Land O' Lake that

My dolo rapper get you sent back

Represent the gentlemens who bent that

Flash medallions like Italians, la costra nostra

We movin through your hood like we supposed ta, flexin'

Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement

So keep the bust the gun Boo

Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents

Add on, the billboard sloan

Check it now, you get the gold dick award

It's like jail, and it's the sixth floor

Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see

Half of y'all niggas built your vine from my stress tree

Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than adobo

Stay militant kid, twist ya like bolo

You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearin' it

Fake one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one

Please, y'all niggas money's gettin' low

But could you come back though, set up shop, and get the fat glow?

Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all

So what the deal now, link up with us, or put your shield down

Faggot (bitch), you fuck around punk (seven fifteen)

We battle for cream nigga

You want a pound crab? Nah let his hand swing

I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings

No more said, knew your chump ass was dead

When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead

It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nuttin' changed nigga

Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game

Your version of perversion, fuckin bitches on Persian rugs

Washin niggas like detergent, it's the surgeon

Slugs propels from Bobby Steele's 12 gauge

Front page, "Daily Chronicle" reads

"Hell up in Gotham, take heed and protect yo' seeds"

You fall like autumn leaves, you lack tranquility

In your rap utilities, to fuck with the abilities

Race like a sperm cell to the ovary

Microphone post tone like a rotary phone

Ancient poems and poetry, old sloans

Explosive head bullets, black hooded

Timberland footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips

And know how to put it in you

Surrender your goods and your merchandise

For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist

For your ice and curtains and vice

Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society

Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety

And lead them to defy me, diary, ya Irie?

I need 18 points for my next joint, this high annointed king

To make a deal, I be the one to appoint

Steve Rifkind must have been sniffin'

To catch somethin so dope, it left Monica Lynch pussy drippin'

I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars

And built with thousands of scholars

My life saga from the hill to the harbor

Legal kid brown in Nicaragua

Gave birth to MC's, thieves and bank robbers

We drove expensive whips and took worldwide trips

And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips

Fancy delicatessens, and the world's best refreshment

But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons

Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in

Enter my zone get blown to 99 sections

This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation

Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggas it's yours

The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for

It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet

Niggas is foul and it's duck season

We at odds 'til we even motherfucker

Bad asses, high times, lower classes

Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses

Bring it to him, room service, under pressure

And mad nervy, wavin guns at the clergy

Ticallion, we ain't worried

Keep them sick niggas seven-thirty

Picture this, watch the birdy

These bastards is Ol and Dirty

With sharp pins that be stabbing you

Pins and needles, needles and pins

Nuff said, dick in your mouth like Tempest Bled'

As I race track with thoroughbreds, duckin the feds

Yo, my ice look fly up on the keyboard son

Niggas ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords

That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggas like weight

Feed 'em food, let the fake evaporate

Reconstruction, that's the whole science on my, production

Y'all niggas guess who stuck son, left his nuts hungs

Switch, finger itch, starin' at you like a bitch

Maybe y'all niggas snitched

Youse a loner, Adidas shell top while I

Sip a Corona, read the Robb Report, then bone her

Buy you some jewels, here's some food

Not necessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo

We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom

Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs

Chill, y'all niggas know what time it is

James Bond Beamers behind me on Bacardi Limon

Check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan

He caught a slug for lyin'

Yeah you was lyin', where's the cash, cryin'

Militia, rollin' in position

Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian

Lex retali' back whistlin' fake fucks