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Dashing (reasons)
por
Wu-tang Clan
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The nigga had a pair of old Air Impalenisias on Oh shit, the nigga had a pair of Air Christen Slater's Rebel I, slay the max, it's really Digital Rockin' the latest in, every day comin' at niggaz Rockin' the latest in Ben Stillaways f*ck that, the next big thing, lay this as Hollywood niggaz Now that's a money thing Yo yo I was Dashing through the hood Eighteens with the whip, smoke gray Leavin' skid marks on five-oh, smokin' all the way Hahaha With my all-star team, bitches see our shine Yo son we gotta make that cream whether raps or Nixon times They call me Rollie, watch me polly with the wide body Dinali Packed the bad hottie, rocked enough ice to play hockey I swarm like paparazzi, she popped a wheelie on the candy apple Kawasaki Everything is sloppy, philosophical for those who copy I'll probably splash her tonight, don't block Sippin' on Lime Bacardi got me toxy Plus the Cali 'dro holdin' me, I'm 'bout to 'scape like the Roxy Ever property, Monopoly, big shotti Snatch the cream, whether in the concert hall or in the lobby Used to be a hobby, got me duckin' Rudy Giulianni Like I'm still coppin' big eights from papi Follow me, whether Mardi Gras' or house party It's wild like safari, ain't mean to catch the body But had 'em wobbly off the first blow, tryin' to knock me I'm known to pump ya blood like the theme song to Rocky Kamikaze, might karate chop ya head like a naughty Dread then call myself Collar Ratsi Professionally trained, I am for your artery I give the autographs but charge for photography Not hardly kid, you awkward God body You'se a carbon copy, just started to rock Wallys Spark the broccoli, spaz off this ghetto opery Or catch the hot seat, you're bawty boy without ya posse Seen Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons They couldn't get me, watch me move swiftly Broke the unmarked fifty with this cabby who was a gypsy He stayed tipsy, said he loved his bills crispy Drivin' the streets he kept heat on the night, shifty Quickly, who ring bells like it's twelve on Sunday? While the stage catch shells from forceful gunplay Mere fact that the track was a fierce counterattack All those who couldn't multiply were sent back No tanks, low rank, soldiers hittin' the heart Tainted the heart of an empire, was torn apart Brought to a halt from a front full assault The chemist left the lab with undetermined results They saw the swordsman sift electrical volts The audience threw nuts with loose screws and bolts The archives automatically changed ya stiff vibes It was layin' in the zip drive from chest five Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons Come, come, come One for the dough, son Give me the reasons
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