Wu-Tang Clan - Duck Seazon lyrics

We scrape y'all motherfuckers, it's my word
When you see us, when you see us flashin'
And shinin' and buildin'
And addin' on, y'all niggas just watch
Hear me? Only ones who we got respect for is
The niggas that we say peace to
Hear me? Pay attention, put your shoes on, yo

My team be bellyachin'
Hungry niggas on the swarm again
Piranha nigga bite dick, yo, son
It's on again
What up? He made a move, try to assist it
Listen, kid, yo, you was born to be a pawn
But I'm a bishop
Back to the novel, yo son, it's logical
How you figure, God? What?
Float on the track, flip the obstacle
Now my proposal rips the global
From California to courts, it's over, God
Told taste the soul food


Remember baggy jeans, Timberlands in November
Shorty called me Santa in December
But guess what? My Wallys got messed up
Autograph pressed up
What? Blessed enough to blow your rest up
We scrape that, Land O' Lake that
Mazola rap will get you sent back
Represent the gentlemens who bent that
Flash medallions like Italians
La Costra Nostra we movin' through your hood
Like we supposed to, flexin'
Lexi Diamonds hold the settlement
Tekitha, bust your gun, boo
Like that bad-ass bitch in Dead Presidents
Ad on the billboard store, check it now
You get the gold dick award
It's like jail and it's the sixth floor
Test me, floatin' in the SE, now, let's see
Half of y'all niggas built your
Vine from my stress tree faggots, homos, yo
My flavor liver than adobo
Stay militant, kid, twist ya like Bolo
You fuckin' idiot
Playin' with my Clan but you be fearin' it
Fake one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one
Please, y'all niggas money's gettin' low
But could you come back, though
Set up shop and get the fat glow?
Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
So what the deal now?
Link up with us or put your shield down
Faggot

Fuck around, punk (Seven-fifteen)
We battle for cream, nigga (Yo)

You want a pound, crab? Nah
Let his hand swing
I ought to punch a hole in his
Palm with these pointy ass rings
No more said, knew your chump ass was dead
When I saw the 44 reflectin'
Off your shiny forehead
It's Wu Tang, nigga, ain't nothing changed
Nigga
Still shame on a nigga who tried to run game
Your version of perversion
Fuckin' bitches on Persian rugs
Washin' niggas like detergent
It's the surgeon slugs propels from Bobby
Steele's twelve gauge
Front page Daily Chronicle reads
"Hell up in Gotham
Take heed and protect your seeds"
You fall like autumn leaves
You lack tranquility in your rap utilities
To fuck with the abilities
Race like a sperm cell to the ovary
Microphone post tone like a rotary phone
Ancient poems of poetry
Old scrolls, explosive head bullets
Black hooded, Timberland-footed ninjas
With full metal jacket clips and know
How to put it in you
Surrender your goods and your merchandise
For no purchase price
I'm certainly a heist for
Your ice is curtains, advice
Come quietly, Wu Tang Clan rules society
Because of variety
So maintain your high anxiety
And lead them to defy me, diary, ya irie?
I need eighteen points on my next joint
This high anointed king to make a deal
I be the one to appoint
Steve Rifkind must've been sniffin'
To catch somethin' so dope it
Left Monica Lynch pussy drippin'
I fuck hundreds of bitches and
Spent millions of dollars
And built with thousands of scholars
My life saga from the hill to the harbor
Legal 'caine grind like Nicaragua
I gave birth to MCs, thieves and bank robbers
We drove expensive whips and
Took worldwide trips
And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips
Fancy delicatessens and the
World's best refreshment
But none of the above compare
To the 120 Lessons
Or my queen and my seed and
The homes that I rest in enter my zone
Get blown in ninety-nine sections

This rhyme has no limitation
This time there's no hesitation
Collectin' minds at the door
You want it, niggas? It's yours
The flavor's raw
What the fuck you think I'm flowin'
For? It's rhyme and reason bite the bullet
Niggas is fowl and it's duck season
We at odds 'til we even, motherfucker
Bad asses, high time, lower classes
Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses
Bring it to 'em, room service
Under pressure and mad nervy
Wavin' guns at the clergy
Ticallion, we ain't worried
Keep them sick niggas seven-thirty
Picture this, watch the birdie
These bastards is old and dirty
With sharp hymns that be stabbing you
Pins and needles, needles and pins
'Nuff said
Dick in your mouth like Tempest Bled'
As I race track with thoroughbreds
Duckin' the Feds

Yo, my ice look fly upon the keyboard, son
Niggas ran up on me, lord
Praisin' what we do by the laws
That's right, exile the fake
Hit them niggas like weight
Feed 'em food, let the fake evaporate
Reconstruction, that's the whole science
On my production
Y'all niggas guess who stuck, son
Left his nuts hung switch, finger itch
Starin' at you like a bitch
Maybe y'all niggas snitch you's a loner
Adidas shell top while I sip a Corona
Read the Robb Report, then bone her
Buy you some jewels, here's some food
Not necessarily mean to be rude, boo
Check out the analoo
We into mushrooms, chase the Heineken
The custom baggy jeans, thick ropes, god
Slidin' through customs
Chill, y'all niggas know what time it is
James Bond Bimmers behind me on Bacardi Limon
Check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan
He caught a slug for lying
Yeah, you was lying, where the cash? Crying
Militia, rollin' in position
Casa Blanca Cuban link Christian
Lex retali' back whistling fake fucks

How dare you rebuild the Wu
Tang Clan against me
For that you’re gonna die
I may not be the one to stop you
But somebody will very soon
Also, the Wu Tang Clan will rise again
There are many of us
All working for the good of the Wu Tang