Windmill Lyrics - Cappadonna

(Make me yours) He get out of line, break his fucking arm... 

You know how it go (What am I supposed to say? Yeeaaah) 

You know, word up, not playing the games, with these niggaz, man 

(Somebody tell me what do I do...) 

None at all, man... hit 'em off, none of that, man 

Aiyo, jump out the Acura, crazy heavy, what's popping? 

Us locking the game, word to every hand on the lockmen 

Street gwop, everybody eats, sweep blocks 

This is a message, ain't go no grams, we gon' beatbox 

Study like lessons, niggaz in the game biting the grain 

You knowing where it came from, stop it 

You thought we wasn't coming? You dumbing, you blunted again 

Watch Lex get that dough out ya pocket, rhyme all 'pallegic 

Can't nothing move when I rhyme, when I drop lines it's law out in Egypt 

Love ups, don't need no batteries now, what? 

The only niggaz that'll glow'll be us 

Yo, throw me in Sin City, leave me with the vultures and bats 

Then give me two weeks to bubble like Kim titties 

Dirt Dog, we miss you, now it's time to murder the game 

Cuz if things change, you know it ain't against Wu 

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What am I supposed to say? Yeeaaah 

Somebody tell me what do I do... 

We keep it hot, keep the heat on the block 

We never stop, drawing water up until it begin to drop 

Raining with the patchwork of puzzles 

That was written in the year of the dragon 

More raw than you could ever imagine 

How much of a great blessing to a rap city 

Where the youth is organically fed, from the Witty 

Unpredictable, Talent And Natural Game is lyrical 

Analyze the picture, the portrait, the visual 

A Cuban Link Chef cooks spaghetti that's untied 

RAGU nigga whose tomatoes are sundried 

He gave y'all niggaz whiplash from bling bling 

But my rhyme'll give ya hot flash and moodswings 

Math shed light on divine secrets, then science leaked it 

For the lower level creatures that can't peep it 

I observe MC's, regardless 

From a neighboring world which is ten times the sharpness... 

Photos 

Let the track wind and ya mind flow free 

Remain conscious on this ride to ya best ability 

Infinity, back to the source of which it came 

Energy, see it change forms, atoms being born, never ending 

On and on and on and, travel with me 

Not trying to convince the pack, that it's a fact 

For those who can't adapt, I lived it, shitted it back 

We have agreed, you'll feel the impact of the truth when I'll squeeze 

The brain feels something pop, hip hop, locked in texts 

Fat checks, fly whips, jewelry, chicks 

Enough kicks, fitted crown, buttoned down 

Underneath the white T lies the four pound 

This is forty-five minutes of menacing 

Dismantling, any MC opponent stepping in the zone 

Get ya face blown (Get ya face blown) 

Observe the word, when I speak, get the truth's heard 

True to the curb, Wu classic is the new birth 

Spreading the blessing across seven continents 

Arm of the trench, there's no form of defense 

Entertainment, nine swords swing rapid 

Check the techniques, first bow to The Abbott 

Witty Unpredictable, gritty individual 

Valid, if it's Actual, Talent and it's Natural 

Game, rugged like the train, pump it in ya vein 

I and I ride or die under the name 

W-U, the primary, ya secondary 

Definitely not necessary, the legendary 

You printed the blueprints to do this shit 

Moving the youth in the bricks 

Spit poison tipped darts that rip hearts 

Through the chest, when I manifest my sick art 

Speaking my mind, fall in line when I spit mine 

Still in my prime, still'll shine til it quit time 

If this is a crime, find me guilty, I'm so sublime 

So rapid with rhymes, same slacking is assonine 

Revealing the truth, catching feelings, it's still the Wu 

Gorilla the booth, body armored, them killa proof 

In living proof, I'm the Wittiest Unpredictable 

Most Talented rap muthafucker you ever listened to 

I'm a hustler, I grind til my pack is done 

Give a seed, mad knowledge til they cracked and run 

Can't nobody fuck with me, I'm just too nice 

Smack niggas in they head everytime I write 

Yo, I'm straight from Park Hill where the guns is popping 

Where them little black kids do they grocery shopping 

Go to school fucked up, it's Africa Island 

We poor in the bricks but inside it's nothing but talent