Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck, Method Man - House of Flying Daggers lyrics

" Ha ha haha nobody is going to save you now!

Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump
Troops on the left, fight to the death
Fam on the right, infrared lights
Wolves in the back, ready to attack
For what!
Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump

I pop off like a mobster boss
Angel hair with the lobster sauce
Summertime, can't top the scorch
Check my hot broad, I dropped the Porsche
FBI wanna watch the force
Tryna lock my source
Where I'm from hear the macs, Tecs
Glocks and fours
Hide the safe, nigga, lock the doors
No respect for the cops and laws
In the land where your own blood
Brother still plot for yours
Seen things that'll drop your jaw
My soldiers got dropped in war
See the mural on the project wall?
Won't stop til I cop them all
Wanna block me? You gots to brawl
Trade shots and all
'Cause I ain't on the clock for talk
The spot rusher, blow down the spot for sure
Still break off the block with raw
My stock is more
The General: watch your board

Deep pockets with the eight on me
Sleep with the safe in the wall
The camo's on with the makeup and all
Swap six 45s, twist reefer in the flicks
Pop your whoadie, ride
Bolt his gun off, from know your whore
She lied fly criteria, bury me in Africa
With whips and spears and rough
Diamonds out of Syria
True don, only I could do wrong
Rock fitted hats
Get crack money and drive a sick blue joint
Retard less, I'ma blow regardless
Résumé is straight up live
I shank niggas up for larger Es
And speak with the youth in the spot
Eat the fresh fruit in the crop
All these Hip-Hoppers eat cock
You could see me in the street or the yacht
I'd rather be promoting your block
Or buying fresh sneakers with guaps
Yo, I'm an ill dude, always been a real dude
Don't fuck around, I will spill on you
And kill you in the field, boo

Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump
Troops on the left, fight to the death
Fam on the right, infrared lights
Wolves in the back, ready to attack, for what
Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump
Troops on the left, fight to the death
Fam on the right, infrared lights
Wolves in the back, ready to attack, for what

Leather jackets on, rocked-up rockstars
Treacherous bank robbers, the plan go dub
We pop guards
The team gotta eat, seeds is hungry
That's why we ain't scared to dump on niggas
Our guns is chunky
Usually we bust niggas down with bats
Swell up they joints
Elbow, wrists, they shins get cracked
We still humiliate, brutalize, Ruger pop
Pulverize still got gear in the
Closet that's stupid live
From Benetton rugby skullies
Oshkosh conductor jumpers
The train hats fit me lovely
Rae job is to make sure the coke is fluffy
While I politick his birthday bash with Puffy
Bag me as soon as I linked up
The kid ain't inked up i'm an old mummy
My gold weigh as much as King Tut
Slippers, robes is minked up (yeah, ugh)
Under the do rag, bro
My three-dimensional fade is clean-cut
(Yo, yo)

Man, y'all niggas ain't shit to us
Still a pistol bust
Split your melon like I split the Dutch
(yeah) got a lot of piff to puff
And I ain't come for fisticuffs (Pffff)
Or for the cop that wanna clip the cuffs
Man, is Staten in this bitch or
What? Don't get it twisted, we
Twist it up and even mix with dust
See, these fans can't resist the rush
They Wu Tang for life
Scarred for life, they can't forget the cuts
Got a whole line of classic joints
And while you at it, pass the joint
Let's push this music past the point
Of no return, til it crash and burn
Down the ashes
Then placed inside Ol' Dirty Bastard's urn
When it's my time to go, for sure
Your nigga goes to war
What you think I brought these soldiers for?
To send shots like forget-me
Nots at any nigga respect, bitch
That figure they gon' get me got

"Haha, your basic kung fu's no good
You can't move fast enough!
And you don't have enough strength!
And your body movements are
Like a street fighter!
It's too easy for me to trip you up!"
"Hahaha, how's it feel, eh?"
"Ah, it's broken! I feel my back's broken!"
"Haha, you've still got a lot to learn!"