Whatever

[Intro: Raekwon (Black Mas)] Fightin' like a lost soul (word, they can't fight) Herb raps, word up son (they can't fight this) Knowhatimsayin? Gotta run through this at all times You hear me, (word up) right, yeah (so we understandin' this shit) Aight, word, knawhatimean? (bring that shit back) [Chorus: Raekwon] Whatever dunn, show 'em, represent how you do yours Connect four, major niggas, float, do tours It's like this, check out the marvelous cats who bust, only us Red Rums, slide through, dunn, what, who bumped it, what? [Wicked] Aiyo, it's the L.O.'s and the Chef, cookin' up some marvelous Servin' niggas whoever cuz they impatiently starve for this Apocalypse upon your clicks for tryin' to change over I write my rhymes top of line, like fuckin' Range Rovers I aim cobras wit wind blowers, international flame throwers Wipe out your whole territory, and leave your smell in strange odors I bring folders, to the real hip hop So try to front up on my click, and kid, you will get dropped I build this poppest disaster, crash your land flash I "flex" like Funk, then I "flash" like Grandmaster Ask you who the nicest, on mic devices My lyrical crisis'll have you seein' "illusions" like Cypress You bite this, wanna write this, so I might just Teach you like them "teachers", that's "poor" and "righteous" Sit you down and recite this, I like this My crew shinin' wit tight sips, ya'll fools want From a taste of Red Rum, wit a slight twist of Lou Diamond I rule rhymin', ain't no if, ands, about that Ask niggas around the way, you can beat me They be like, "nah, I doubt that" He's dangerous, don't try to follow, I'm sure to loose you I hit you wit tons and pounds of heavy shit like Yokozuna Get you growin' tumor, for tryin' think about my fly shit And fuckin' wit this and you ain't gotta be livin' the fast life to die quick [Chorus] [Black Mas] Yo, clear the way and bring your crews, about to ship on to Michigan Got you twitchin' kid, official gear, got you bitchin' kid Pay attention, kid, we get low down wit four down lyrical styles Go down, wit more grounds, you tow down, we blow shit Oh shit, flip, we control shit, we roll thick Play me close, kid, get your dome split Wit chrome grips, collected thought, style of all sorts Playin' niggas like sports, on courts, holdin' down fort Nigga soft, takin' virginity from niggas daughters You be, B., I ain't havin' it, like baseheads wit nine dollars and four quarters I'm bringin' drama to your grounds, keep it rugged raw Before you battle me, go to Apollo and rub that fuckin' log I eight-six and knock your ass out the boxing rings Nigga, fuckin' up backs like beds wit no backspring [Chorus] [Raekwon] What's the cake? He tried to front of dope mink This no name nigga wit game, straight outta Spain Shell blowers, we cardiac arrest elbowers Rock rovers, like hangin' above God shoulder Yea, we gettin' ours, you flower head cats is cowards We buckin' birds like Adina Howard Rich niggas allow it, you know it done right, black Bulletproof ski hats, Siamese, beings wit the dezack The dice rollers, the Motorola Glock holders Yo, hold this, six hundred Benz niggas for soldiers We top notch, Rocky watch, blood son, guzzle spots Glass spot, run in your bitch, smack your pops Mack style to this, murder one style, shit's miraculous Half of this, I'm hittin' at home wit Indianopolis [Chorus 2X]