Wu-Tang Clan, Rza, Raekwon, Prodigal Sunn, Madame Dee - Chrome Wheels

Woke up this morning, smoked some sticky green to get me started Choclate thai, all in my eye, I'm never broken-hearted Bang us in ya cars, bang us in ya Jeep, bang that shit retarded (Bob Digi) Sun Zeini (P. Sunn) 12 O'Clock Two On Da Road on this (12 O'Clock) I love my brother to death (That old hip-hop, catch this) (Hot Nix', you know? Big tits) I love my brother to death, nigga pussy to the rest Shared a pair of Guess and an Eddie Bauer vest A bitch named Celeste I met her when I was goin to cash a Def Jam check She had some big ass breasts I had to catch her like a shortstop on the Mets A nigga high off a dime from Gates and Best Remember grandmother live on Louis and Lex I remember Dirt Dog crashed his white Lex I remember me and Meth won a dice game against Ghost and Deck Remember Portland had Clyde Drex' Remember 12 O'Clock is a vet Big Dogs we put 'em to sleep, keep 'em on a leash I move like days in a week Niggaz don't know the face and names on my teeth Niggaz carry a cold piece, and separate the heat Ain't scared of the motherfuckin police Yo, yo Guns jammed up, I'm cramed up in my lab Six niggaz, six bitches, two fifths and eight bags One toilet, three weedheads, an alcoholic And two niggaz hooked on pussy And in the corner, was this brother who would study his lessons And learned how operate the Smith and the Wesson Still cut class and played hookey Threw freshmens in garbage cans, gave 'em nookies Rolled the, back of the bus with a gun in his socks Big forehead, had ears like Spock He was mightier than a truckload of gats And bound to make a bitch cum in six minutes flat What up kid? Stay livin Seen you look good, you look live in ya linen And you survived ninth innin The hood got us off the prop without women All my niggaz that ride that provide to the end of this Ain't nothin but the real, yeah Ain't nothin but the real Ain't nothin but the real, yeah Million dollar deals, rollin on Chrome Wheels Yeah, uh-huh, yeah (Ain't nothin but the real) This one's on P. Sunn, word up? Yeah, uh-huh We gamble the dice, remain humble, scramble through the jungle of life While the we rumble with the foul and trife Shots fired on the block in threes like Glen Rice Made men think twice about the sacrifice Black on white, write it for the world to hear Write it for my fam who not here who do care Glance and stare, why when you can't compare? From the bottom of my feet to the end of my hair Move rear, cop the blue steel bare, groove to the snare Bass and drums, see my face in the slums Pedia Brown, media surround my sound When you see me in the hood of ya town, respect my sound Sample with black, criminal, mechanical rap Assemblin hat, laced in a suit from Phat Two On Da Road, got them bitches screamin, "Who Dat?" Two with the plaques, two with the gats, it's like that Two On Da Road, Bobby Digital He's a gangsta, yeah No, no, no, no, no, no Live it up, live it up Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no Bang us in ya Jeeps Shaolin! Bobby Digital Uh-huh, Sunn who? Yeah Haha! Yeah! Get that money y'all Get that money y'all Get that money y'all Shout in pain Uh-huh, yeah Weed blazin, cocoa hazin, cocoa hazin Uh-huh, yeah Weed blazin, cocoa hazin, cocoa hazin