DOOMSTARKS, Raekwon - The Mic lyrics

Uh huh, uh huh, motherfucker, uh huh
Yeah, I see that, I see that
All y'all fake motherfuckers up in the joint
Huh stealin' my light, huh
Watch me, duke, watch me

Yo, check these up top murderers
Snowy in the bezel as the cloud merges
FBI try and want word with this
Kid who pulled out bust a
Shot up in the Beacon
Catch me in the corner not speakin'
Crushed out heavenly
UG rock the sweet daddy long fox minks
Chicken and broccoli, Wally's look stink
He with his man straight from Raleigh Durham
He recognized Kojak i slapped him five
Masta Killa cracked his Heini for him
Everybody break bread, huddle around
Guzzle that
I'm about to throw hair on your back
Since the face been revealed, game got real
Radio been gassing niggas
My imposters scream they're ill
I'm the inventor, '86 rhyming at the center
Debut '93 LP told you to enter
Punk faggot niggas stealing my light
Crawl up in the bed with grandma
Beneath the La-Z-Boy where you hid your knife
Ghost is back, stretch Cadillacs
Fruit cocktails
Hit the shells at Paul's Pastry Rack
Walk with me like Dorothy try to judge these
Plus Degrees, sessical, rasta fiends
Getting waxed all through the drive-thru
Take the stand
Throw my hand all on the Bible
And tell lies too, I'm the ultimate
Splash the Wolverine Razor Sharp ring
Dolomite student enroll holding it
A yo, this rap is like Ziti
Facing me real TV
Crash at high speeds, strawberry kiwi
As we approach your hood, the Gods bail
See Staten Island ferryboat, cats bail
Fresh cellies, 50 deep up in the city
We banned for life
Apollo kids live to spit the real

A pair of bright phat yellow Air Max
Hit the racks, snatch 'em up, son
Twenty dollars off no tax
Dream merchant tucked in the cloud
Stay splurging
Rock a eagle head, 6-inch height was the bird
Monday night Dallas vs Jets
Dudes slid in with one hand
Two Culture Ciphers, one bag of wet
Heavy rain fucked my kicks up
Wasn't looking, splashed in the puddle
Bitch laughing
First thought was beat the bitch up
Moseyed off gracefully
New York's most wanted cheeba hawk
Seen the yellow brick road
I stole the pastries
Same Ghostface, holy in the mind
Last seen Manhattan Chase
Withdrew the six-eight digit in the briefcase
Rawness, title is Hell-bound
Quick to reload around faces
Surround look astound

Yo, yo, yo
We split a fair one, Poconos money
Gin rummy with glare, spot the lame
Bit his ear
Yo, and taste a teaspoon, 300 goons
Stash balloons
Locked in lab rooms, hit with the Glock
Stashed in Grant's Tomb
Clocked him like a patient, his stocks fall
Hustle invasion
Knowing now, we copped the block off
The chain tri-color
Freezing in velour, icicle galore
Gas station light gleaming on the wall
Cop WiseGuy jams, James Bond vans
Niggas flipped Timbs, rock boats under water
Watch clams
Pose for the stand-off, mad timid
Hoping that the gun fall
Guessing like lottery balls, yo