Artist: Raekwon f/ Ghostface Killah, Rick Ross Album: Shaolin vs. Wu-Tang Song: Molasses Typed by: Cno Evil [Intro: Raekwon] Yo, legend, what's good, legend, what's going on? (Yo, we gotta do the intro over and all that, right?) Ice H2O (Ight, keep all that, keep all that) Keep our palace, nigga Yeah, word up, yeah, yeah, yeah, turn me up, son Yo, Ross, what up, my nigga? (Murderous shit) Aiyo, aiyo [Raekwon] Word to the gold panel mirrors, and to the wood grain in my labo I go the extra mile, my flow scaffolds Crew cuts, the older niggas, the same rumors, just the same goons When niggas catch visions of killing capos Palestinian armor, golden rocket launcher, my aunt She copped it from me, bought it in Rwanda See demon scheming, niggas get live in the Beacon I'm 'shaw' to 'shank' shit up like Morgan Freeman Pussy getting rapper, rich nigga, one-on-one rents niggas And incidents, my fingerprints been tore up We sell love slinging like Siemens, the snort-able Beemers They love calling niggas names out, you screaming Feds try to tap us and plus clap us, niggas'll grab Bust' Throw you in the rassle, yo, clap ups Catch me at the Stephen King mansion, with four of my Branson niggas With me, me and Britney, a dancer Know your shit authentic by the way your hat fit on you, with it I'm like the Blair Witch nigga in the rented Curtains in the five-seven, chunky and short Bagging dope up in the backseat, your packages walk Holding my girl wedding ring, she Medellin Name is Coretta King, live in Alpha Reda and she never leave me Flow freely this is all graffiti, the cloth I'm cut from Is straight from a rich nigga genie [Chorus 2X: Raekwon] Yo, Scarface gangstas, criminal niggas up in the trenches Army coats on, playing the benches Getting paper, sly, that's the motto, intelligent goons Inside a hundred thousand dollar whip, follow [Rick Ross] The fucking Juan Don, yeah, Su Wu-Tang Still gritty, leave the pretty to the females The watch mother pearl weather seashells Pick of the litter, have this nigga picking paper up Twitter thug, I'm the timeline strangler Get 'em up, banging dangerous as angel dust Cuban Linx smoking stink in the Brink's trunk I run with killas who snort powder, extort cowards Ankle monitors under garments, so fuck showers I give a fuck what you talking 'bout Mob meetings, we them only niggas walking out Sparking purple once a nigga done spaghetti slurping Fly away in my new, Scabetti, surfing [Chorus 2X] [Ghostface Killah] Yo, we in the back roasting marshmallows, bottles of Cru' The dialogue is the big chain niggas is rude Law library scholars, potatoes over the thirty eights With bald-heads, all live wires Eleven homes, six trust funds, came home from doing a dime We just left Un's, straight up And we standing over the stoves, in denim Gibaud's Brought a Dairy Queen to Queens right next to Lowe's IMAX Theatres, Astoria Waldorf Philip Drummer suite, pretty young thing sucking my balls off Bubble baths, hash, zuted up, eyes closed Silk drawers, fronting in my key, I'm Paul Wall-o's And I still got a half a ki indeed, Frank Lucas shit Hid it in coffins, flying over seas And if you ever try to ruin my knight I'mma make sure my best pawn put like three in your kite Shot caller, laying in big laws Rock of Gibraltar, my pinky joint, killing like Orca Daytime hawk, a nasty street author Me, Rae and Rick, uzi'd out in the porches Case we gotta Warner bro, like Malcolm-Jamal I'mma Falcon, Seven Mike Vick with the ball Cuz I can hut-one, hut-two, disrespect, I hunt you down Ain't a muthafucking crew we can't run through [Chorus 2X] [Outro: Raekwon] Army shit, nigga Camouflage, gorilla shit, nigga You know what it is, man Yo, Lex, talk, yeah Where ya man at? Let's go Stay together, my nigga