Knuckleheadz song by Raekwon from Primary Album Album not found. The music is composed and produced by Joel. Genre is Rap music. The Record company is unknown. Released on None.
The video shared via: Youtube
Knuckleheadz Meaning
| [[Intro: Raekwon, Ghostface Killah, U-God] Let me— Let me hold that One for you, one for me (True) Two for you, one— two for me What? Three for you Nigga get— get the— Man, I’ll smack— (Fuck is— out of here with all that shit) Smack fire out your fucking ass What the fuck you think this is, man? Get the fuck up out of here man (Chill, chill) So, yo, matter of fact, the man is back (Stick this man head out over a fucking fire!) Shit, alright— This ain’t even enough bread right here, this ain’t enough We going to shoot right over there (Fuck that man, yo) And, yo, them niggas got the big cream over there, just chill (Alright, let’s get this cash, and move nigga) Spark it, right out the tropical, kid Alright, don’t play me like I got a flowerpot head, kid (*Loading clip*), on the real, man Just chill, let’s go get this money fast, son I know how we got to do this, kid (*Gunshots*), trust this (Alright, scrungy-head motherfuckers) [Verse 1: Raekwon] Lay on the crime scene, sipping fine wines, pulling nines on UFOs, taking they fly clothes, they eyes closed We getting loot, no doubt, check the word of mouth Unheard about, guns go off and now a murder route I’m out, my raps play the part like a Get Smart secret agent In a maze and style’s blazing Johnny Blaze and Tony Starks in the Days Inn And Rhyming, my nigga Lou Diamond with Robert F We like Meth to go and fuck with Noodles Having them poodles on the lockdown, buying me Amarettos and chewables, smacking pharmaceutical Rap niggas on dust and woos Yo, I told you some killed, robbed and fold The goal’s untold, fuck it, it beats parole So stroll marvelous, soul controller of the globe blow Goddamn, I got it sewn and yo What up wop? Pop the suitcase high and we can talk You can walk out the fucking building and get caught Save the fully inflatable, rap relatable Drug relatable, niggas here to play with you A hundred dollar Rottweiler, go to spot sellers Guns and Glocks for them niggas who got props Off top jail niggas get mad bigger and yo Mail a guy about a hundred pictures Word to mama, this rap wonder rhymer team got drama Comma, blunt smoke real-ass marijuana Chef Maranzano boats across the Verrazano Immaculate, bust off my gun so accurate And get cream in the cuisine of Queens I told you, money skated with night beams and two rings , [Interlude: Raekwon & Ghostface Killah] Crazy fag, I’m getting ready to do this shit (Sniff mad shit) Man, niggas know not to step on this shit [Verse 2: Ghostface Killah] Who’s the knucklehead wanting respect? Chop his fingers in the drug game, money well-known Lead singer, humdinger, flash is the aftermath, here’s his photograph Run up in his lab, take off the mask, Chas, and think fast Don’t laugh, bag the cash, grab the hash, don’t forget his stash Grab the tear gas and place it in his face fast At full blast (*Speeding car passing*) Then skate to the next gate further upstate I heard they got crazy weight bagged up by the cakes in Crates like disco breaks, yo look out for jakes Give it all it takes, let’s burn the place before we motivate Yo, Blake, nigga, don’t fake, rape his mate If the bitch scream, for God’s sake grab the grey tape It’s by the plate with the blow crushed up with the flakes Killer snakes, four bodies found floating in lakes Drug related paper talking about the kids who didn’t make it Hits without a trace, never seen the bricks, see Rae and Ghostface Congratulations, Chef, let’s celebrate and sniff an eighth (*Tires screeching*) [Verse 3: U-God] The rap scar is on, rap Parmesan, poke on, put it on, seal it on We’re silicone, spark it on your talkathon This rap phenomenon to correspond took the arms Hit me on the hip and horns, rap chaperone Scars, tones, bar thrown, war tones, raw tones Blowing out their jawbones, but your rap’s fraudulent Plug in these rap coordinates, it’s reinforced with suspense Be on your rap sword defense These microphone professional, sensational, fully operational I got niggas here to play with you, you know the steez You know my whole program, brothers from the no-lands All we want is the G’s, guns and grams Living fat like the Hoffa, mafia, sipping, eating pastas Laying in the house telling the seeds about the sagas Before we got dramatic and thoughts got sporadic We grabbed golden tablets and quick guarded the Abbots Slugs hit the Pelle, punch hopes into the belly Suckers tried to knock me out the box like Skelly I smoke the weed trees, I drop top to the breeze Honey dip spending G’s on nails and hair weave The crime boss taking no loss, excessive force We can play the A-Train back of the iron horse , [Outro: Raekwon, Ghostface Killah] Yo, man, you know what I’m saying? Fuck it, man (*Tires screeching*, *car crashing*) (*Car crashing*)] |
