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New Wu Lyrics

from Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Vol. 2

Music Video
"New Wu" is track #6 on the album Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Vol. 2. It was written by Diggs, Robert F. / Smith, Clifford / Woods, Corey / Coles, Dennis D..
"New Wu" is track #6 on the album Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, Vol. 2. It was written by Diggs, Robert F. / Smith, Clifford / Woods, Corey / Coles, Dennis D..

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Tell a friend, it's that symbol again, that W
Coming through, bust a shot on your block, give me a suu
Get it right, all my chicks hold ya tits, let's get it in
All my niggas take a toke off this weed, let it begin
Here we go, yo, ya'll already know what it do
Brand new, nigga, back from the slums, it be the Wu
Now throw ya W's up, back from the slums, it be the Wu

You know how to dress a lad, get rocked, hundred bags, black doo-rags
Ski masks is on, g-rags
Nigga try to take pictures, relax, still in the grass
You'll learn respect, burst when I ask
Rhyme master busy, Rizzy on the subject
Love Deck, thug buried, drug vest, snub sets, killing the most
Night time toast, gorillas in boats, three boats
Realers is killa, gangsta feel notes
Hibernation yo, switch up, liver nation, fly information
Vivid vacation, deliberation moments
Move like '91 Romans, cloning everything
Gents only, the rent's on the stove, I'm in Rome
Maxed out, Amex style, my team brand bandits
Make a move and get blown off the planet, baby
Hold that cannon, just understand we got the whole shit
Padlocked down, my niggas won't have it

Tell a friend, it's that symbol again, that W
Coming through, bust a shot on your block, give me a suu
Get it right, all my chicks hold ya tits, let's get it in
All my niggas take a toke off this weed, let it begin
Here we go, yo, ya'll already know what it do
Brand new, nigga, back from the slums, it be the Wu
Now throw ya W's up, back from the slums, it be the Wu

Aiyo, jumping out of Benz wagons, my family live in the Hill
They call us Bin Ladins, laughing, turbaned up
Niggas get murdered up, these streets is like radio beef
So watch how the kid turn it up
Bulletproof tuxes, knuckle games is clarkers and busters
Eighteen niggas, bringing the ruckus
Flame throwers on our backs and shoulders, the rusty joints still work
The trey eight'll blow one of your doujas
When it's mad, he the mad calm, walk around
Gold collect, 36, so before G bomb
My inner strength flowing, I mastered chi kung
Y'all Planet of the Apes, standing next to King Kong
Forensic file, ultraviolet hype, sky blue Bales
Laying niggas like ceramic tile
I'm like Urlacher, beasting at the top of the pile
Laying niggas in the nuts, nigga, damn I'm foul

Tell a friend, it's that symbol again, that W
Coming through, bust a shot on your block, give me a suu
Get it right, all my chicks hold ya tits, let's get it in
All my niggas take a toke off this weed, let it begin
Here we go, yo, ya'll already know what it do
Brand new, nigga, back from the slums, it be the Wu
Now throw ya W's up, back from the slums, it be the Wu

We blow money, got game, hold it, we pop things
Vote for money, crams in my pocket, Chef cook for me
Blue Magic bundles, I'm dope, but on the humble
I'm a good dude, don't short change me, seen as a hood dude
Beer drinkin', Cuban Linking, new way of thinking
God me thinking up, break the handcuffs, run out the precint
This is hard body, hard knocks, if you pushing that hard rock
Then let these niggas go off top
We rock fitted, dropkick it, I lived it and not quit it
I'm pinching, my pops lift it, need business, I'm not finished
I'm *sniff* too hot wit it, you bitching, the plot thicken
I'm shitting the glow, spitting, if nigga don't stop snitching
Just what the block missing, the two-seater wit the top missing
And two divas wit they tops missing
Now that's living to me, I'm what these kids is killing to be
But I don't want my children to be

Songwriters
DIGGS, ROBERT F. / SMITH, CLIFFORD / WOODS, COREY / COLES, DENNIS D.

Published by
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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