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Supa Ninjaz Lyrics

"Supa Ninjaz" was written by Coleman Randolph Hawkins;darryl Hill;derrick R.l. Harris;clifford Smith.
"Supa Ninjaz" was written by Coleman Randolph Hawkins;darryl Hill;derrick R.l. Harris;clifford Smith.

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Dino the dart specialist, Knahmean?
Golden Arms, yo
MethTical, John, John do your thing, thing
What? Check it

The all eye seein', heavenly divine
The truth brings out, the temper in my spine
A hill sound again, feelin' symptoms that bit me
I feel for you victims with everything up in me

A head ringa, stuffed in sidewalls of frenzy
Back the fuck up, 'cause I'm stimmi off the Remi
A semi bloodshot eye, donkey dick of nuts
Every cut, I split and try and felt the guts

Nigga what? Earthquakin' speech, woofer hissin'
The razor faced victims, whew, that's what kissed 'em
Appropriate precaution, surroundin'
Certain it curtains, I'm dumbfounded, I'm poundin'

The pavement for mental enslavement
I'm cravin', a misbehavin' savior
America the grave for gun wavers

The wave runners, what the blood seed again
Make you wonder about the thunder underneath the skin?
The sapphire rhymes slap fire out your minds
With right timin', bite with vampire rhymes

Hmm, eye spy, with my crooked eye
Four metal street soldiers, born to die
Put 'em up, yeah, fuck, yeah, when it's Hammertime
Niggaz can't be touched here, the true and livin'

Night vision unseen, like Jean
When I hack men The Unforgiven
Left in prison in the Wu-Tang dirty dungeon
Now, you succumbin' to my twelve part dirty dozens

Flabbergasted, by tracks that be Tru Mastered
Opposites attract, beef plus they ass backwards
Stick yourself 'til I'm felt
This ass whoopin' is bein' dealt
Like hot peas and butter nigga, I got the belt

What the deal, huh? Swing low, sweet chariot
I walk the Underground Railroad with Harriett
Just a slave to the rhythm, victims I'm like alien
About to put that shit up in 'em
I can't live without my radio
A 100 miles and runnin'

T2 Judgment comin', nobody's safe
When I reminisce about case, still hit the staircase
When the coppers give chase, I give 'em finger
The only hip-hop singer
To tell America to kiss his Killer Bee stinger

Nothin' can save ya from this major misbehavior
Heavy hands layin' corners in the elevator
Guard your grill

I speculate, get my darts straight, don't exaggerate
Dictate, do it with the Papermate, set the plate
Set the bait, checkmate, fuckin' withcha mental state
Double take, meditate, earthquake, VGL contemplate
Big boys integrate, catch you at the Sess skate

Army tank, high rank, got the bank, got the shank
Talk the talk, walk the walk
From New York to Up North to Downstate
To L.A, to all day
To cliches to instant replays, to all the DJ's
To PJ's, in the PJ's, equality days

With money like legs I plant eggs, Pele roundhead
The dog bred, snakes runnin' from red, catch dead
Big born is on take the uniform, we perform
Shit like gangs are now born check for new dawn
Fuck a U Conn, you been warned, we the realest
We never were conned, duffed out and knowledge born

"Rock, the body, body, rock the body, body"
"Rock, the body, body, rock the body, body"
"Rock, the body, body, rock the body, body"
...

Songwriters
Coleman Randolph Hawkins;Darryl Hill;Derrick R.l. Harris;Clifford Smith

Published by
WU-TANG PUBLISHING, INC.;UNIVERSAL MUSIC-CAREERS

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