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More Than Gold
Wu-Tang Clan, Bronze Nazareth, Timbo King
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考え方の违い Bronze Nazareth
最高の集いを 今
I'm a king with no rings, but we can box in one
I'm toxic, spun off the marksman epiglottis
Ex-robbers, vile toting, swinging totem pole
Cobra ax flow, niggas spinning jacks slow
Government remote control, my brain power
Rain shower, man and gods, what's the odds
Even I'm wrong, I'm still right, get large
Seven Wise, hitman, hit squad, dip bars
In golden jars, I speak a sunshine flow
Stir a drumline slow, like gumbo (yo)
My music testifies, and if it's not five mics
It's at least ten dimes
Throw a rope up to God, maybe you'll climb this high
In the tree house, I'm tree'd out, speak about
Something, to think about a bleed out
Flee to my house, hold a tree to my mouth
Inhale, it's brain tsunami
Hope your chain and all your property
Is enough to keep you, on top of the water
Shallow niggas sink deep, and there's sharks in the water
Who run the soundboards, from here to abroad
While ya'll niggas sleep as if the Lord had called, uh
最高のマイグレーションを今みんなでお闻きにしている
そう 次は (yeah) Royal Fam 代表
Timbo King (yeah, that's 俺)
考え方の违いよ
Yo, Bronze, you gonna get a gold medal on this one
Yo, Kruger, I got my thinking cap on, listen
Look, I will murk you, Holmes
I'm Muhammad Ali, I will hurt you Holmes
You ain't nice as hell, you a Comic View rapper
You should write for Chappelle (こんにちは bitches!)
Let's spit the pie fucking three ways
Now we got enough gwop up to pay DJ's
Punch rappers, blood in they mouth, sell it on eBay
Niggas got G5's now up in the PJ's
Wanna pull wool over eyes, go get a sheep
And the G's shall inherit the streets over police
Cop jars on that white widow, write it on a memo
Internet thugs, they get thrown outta they windows
Fight club, I grab mics with Nike gloves
Inside night pubs, we smash light bulbs
I break niggas up like glass dishes, I'm past vicious
Before I bury your ass, any last wishes?
Dry ice, I'm rockin' your man into fried rice
Fucking with Bo, you could die twice
The game is fixed, they pulled the same tricks on Zab
Hop outta cabs, right in front of Saks Fifth Ave
Fuck Bloomberg, new law, marrying fags
You should get a job in Pathmark, carrying bags
Spit hotter than a day in Nevada, with a mink on
Father, slash corporate, without the pink on (looks like baby)
Ya'll dudes got a problem
And I ain't talking 'bout mathematics and his album
I'm famous amongst the streets in all projects
The Black Rick Rubin when I'm putting out a project
See me on Canal, plus cursing in my sentence
Smiling, Medicaid paid for the dentist
A dollar goes a long way from spending pennies
Might wind up broke surrounded by them gimme's
Loose ball, you can chirp, you can Boost call
Shots rain out, from the top of the roof, ya'll
Smoke screen, I smoke green, light a Dutch up (ok)
Geez, what's up?
I'm Cold Blooded, Rick James, up in my veins
Hurricane, hurry, wind done flooded
Besides the shows, online sales, and features
I've made more money this year than teachers
I hit the smoke stacker like my bitch's battered
Pipes shatter like pipe dreams, splatter your gray matter
When things get rough, pull something from my sleeve
Longer than Joker gun, keep hope alively
With a smoking gun, I dissipate Eclipse cigarette
Escape and scrape the Fishscale straight, move the plate
High maneuvers, blue street pie for dinner
Consider a sinner, simmer my lines like roaches' shimmer
Leftover breadwinner, alive in dead winter
Since my placenta had adventure grammar
My wild life is trife like arachnids trapped in amber
No one can shit on these schemes with pitiful means
Put you on the hospital beams, and audible screens
My possible scam, a sonogram of modern man
Harbor, G. Carver plans, why do we sit in stands?