Duck Season Lyrics - Wu-tang Forever - Wu-tang Clan

Scrape y'all motherfuckers 

This is my word, when you see us 

When you see us flashing and shining 

And building and adding on 

Y'all niggaz just watch it, hear me 

Only ones that who we got respect for 

Is them niggaz that we say peace to 

Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on 

Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again 

Pirahna niggaz 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, you Son, it's logical 

How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle 

Now my proposal, rips the global 

From California to courts, it's over God, so taste the soulful 

Remember baggy jeans, Timberlands in November 

Shorty called me Santa in December 

But guess what, my Wally's got messed up 

Autograph pressed what, blast enough to blow your rest up 

We scrape that, Land O' Lake that 

Mizola rapper get you sent back 

Represent the gentlemens who bent that 

Flash medallions like Italians 

La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like we supposed ta 

(Flex this) Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement 

So keep the bust the gun Boo 

Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents 

Add on, the billboard sloan 

Check it now, you get the gold dick award 

It's like jail and it's the sixth floor 

Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see 

Half of y'all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree 

Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo 

Stay militant kid, push it like bolo 

You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it 

Face one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one 

Please, y'all niggaz money getting low 

But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough 

Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all 

So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down 

Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, (7: 15) we battle for cream nigga 

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(RZA) 

You want to 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 four four reflecting off your shiny forehead 

It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga 

Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game 

Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian 

Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs 

still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles 

We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds 

We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility 

In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities 

Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary 

Microphone post tone like a rotary phone 

Age of poems and poetry, old sloans 

Explosive head bullets, black hooded 

Timbaland footed ninjas, who 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 and curtains and vice 

Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society 

Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety 

And lead them to defy me, diary... 

I need 18 points for my next joint 

This high anointed king, to make a deal 

I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing 

To catch something so dope, it left Monica Lynch's pussy dripping 

I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars 

And built with thousands of scholars 

My life saga from the hill to the harbor 

Legal kid brown in Nicaragua 

Gave birth to MC's, theives and bank robbers 

We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips 

And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips 

Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment 

But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons 

Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in 

Enter my zone get blown to 99 sections 

Photos 

(Method Man) 

This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation 

Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours 

The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for 

It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet 

Niggaz is foul in this duck season 

We add odds till we even motherfucker 

Bad asses, high times, lower classes 

Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses 

Bring it to him, room service, under pressure 

And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy 

Ticallion, we ain't worried 

Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty 

Picture this, watch the birdy 

This bastards is rolling dirty 

With sharp pins that be stabbing you 

Pins and needles, needles and pins 

Nuff said, dick in your mouth 

Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds 

Ducking the feds 

(Raekwon the Chef) 

Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son 

Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords 

That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight 

Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate 

Reconstruction, that's the whole science of mine 

Production, ya'll niggas guess who stuck son 

Left his nuts son, switch, finger itch 

Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y'all niggaz snitch 

You'se a loner, Adidas shell top while I... 

sipping na, read the rev report then bone her 

Buy you some jewels, here's some food 

Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo 

We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom 

Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs 

Chill, y'all niggaz know what time it is 

James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and 

check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan 

He caught a slug for lying 

Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying 

Militia, rolling in position 

Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian 

Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks