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The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame have revealed their 2026 class including Oasis, Wu-Tang Clan, Iron Maiden and Joy Division / New Order
A record six British acts are honoured, surpassing 2019's haul of five.
About This Track
"Ill Figures (feat. M.O.P. & Kool G Rap)" is a track by Wu-Tang Clan, from the album Chamber Music, released 29th June 2009. The track is 2:54 long. It's filed under Hip-Hop/Rap. Full lyrics are available below. Dork has published 2 articles about Wu-Tang Clan.
About the Artist
Lyrics
When I write my lyrics It's like, it's like I want my shit to be phat I want people to be able to understand Yo Anybody can rhyme Youknowhatimsaying But it's what you saying that Makes a person know about you Knowhatimsaying You know the type of person you is So it's like really I'm just more of just Being a street narrator (aiyo, what up, famo?) Reefer lit Love hip hop The gangstas got me like the broccoli Brooklyn baby cooling at a swat meet Real niggas wanna meet me Ladies wanna eat me Money clean Mercedes claim Baby Beat me Love getting dressed up Sweats and techs Ride around the hood Good Getting Gotti respect Hand is golden An OG rolling and holding Yo Fresh kicks Soft leather Pockets is swollen Let my jam hit your tape deck It's straight up And made up For every real nigga with his gun on him Hate up Flying through the city nights New flights Blue ice Hundred thousand in a Nike bag License Drug shop I'm sorry Atari in the Ferrari Next see the Lex A Shallah La Tam'pa Eating yo All of us Scamma gangstas You know we honor Tip the kangol Cooling in the brown vengos I have never Giving up on a mission That's against my honor Duke let me warn you My niggas crip up Them young boys'll run up on you Shoot your whip up Brooklyn Nigga Beg for you life And my Staten Island homeys lay Your ass down on Glaciers of Ice Sidewalk executives Live the street life consecutive We built for this Go for your gun My prospective is Another day in the life Of money and drugs Big hammers and slugs Can get ugly as fuck From the chest to your man Danze Ey Staten Island Said what up, yo, ey The homey ODB said what up Though, ey We got the Chef on deck as if you Didn't know It's sharp as fuck, Wu That's what up Pack it up, wanna rap Wanna rock, what up Wanna pop, get up Fuck around and get your block hit up Bring your team and we'll box 'em up Think M.O.P. is not what up It seems I'm a bit late here Don't worry These men are all gonna die See from the side where it slum at Dum at, rum at Cognac, combat Contact, contrast Crom's packing out like Beyonce back She bang out a song like the Fonz back Bigger things Bring the slangs Slicker than the sharpest pen Nigga here, combat Sweet dick Willie T, Rudy Ray Moore Game Woodgrain all in the board reigns Before rain flooded Like storm drains Boss man Bundling raw 'caine Fours bang Neighborhood war games Get your weight up You looking anarexic Posted on the block proper with the hammer vested Bitch came with empty hands That's the hand she left with Thirsty ass with the water and it sounded desperate Break a white an hour Based it forty grand invested Live within the third rail You know the man electric Shit was like the third world Until I handle metrics That next shit
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
View full lyrics page →Track details
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A record six British acts are honoured, surpassing 2019's haul of five.

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