Power (feat. American Cream Team)

Lyrics

[Raekwon]
 Take it off, sho' 'nough kid
 Take it off
 We gon' take it from the East to the West
 to the North to the South
 Show y'all what it's about
 Don't make me throw no gun in your mouth
 You know?
 How long is your CREAM? This long?
 Eh yo, his belt got karats in it
 Swift description, E-320 nigga pitchin
 Rock a raw dinosaur chain, hang to his thing
 It's like, he pump isolated, still cashin in CREAM
 Niggas in the hood hate him, drew a vase of him
 Blaze 'em, he actin like Shallah raisin him
 This is hydrogen, son ain't live as him
 He like Maguyver, chin 4 spies with him
 Roll relentless, desert that he hold is a gift wish
 Shash the list, give his miss dick
 Technique, operation: tech scream
 Bet CREAM, them alligators jet like a vet swing
 Nigga like Nicolas Cage with the gauge in your braids
 2 cannons that'll spray, rockin banana suede
 Suck this drunk alcohol dick
 Fuck y'all niggas with hits
 We bout to shit on y'all shit
 [Triflyn]
 Y'all brothas wanna call us out?
 Name names, otherwise it'd be the best to shut the fuck up
 Get pimp-smacked up, jacked up and macked up
 You're scared and froze of bein exposed
 I own Harlem, I bone Harlem, call me the mayor
 It's my borough, you don't want no problems
 I'm on now, you dead pop, all jokes aside
 I ride the top, you glide the bottom
 Pitfall, 5 foot 9, my dick, balls
 Shit y'all, leave flat line to stick your's
 We flip off basic and brace it
 8 kills, 47 ways to taste it
 Never understand what you never been told
 You did your book bitin off of my scrolls
 We hit man, Colombo, coats and hats to match
 Bust off quick, and then, guns go back
 [Superb]
 I move like Arthur Ash against God
 4 raquets, 8 balls and no practice
 Every cypher's a heated discussion
 The industry was like a beat that needed precussion
 I brun the music, shit that make crews flip
 State that I'm the illest, this is Q.U. shit
 I used to heat-hole, now I'm takin over like the repo'
 Bitches that roll, Cee-Lo that'll sniff a kilo'
 We went from Frank's and greens to shanks and beans
 Now we drive our Navigators to banks in Queen's
 Y'all can't fuck around, your words ain't right
 Every time I touch the mic, they say "Perb ain't right"
 But that's the truth though, d'oh, infact that's it
 When they drop this shit, I'm gon' cop that shit
 The new star, you want me? I'm at the juice bar
 Y'all once hap' niggas, give me 2 stars
 [Chip Banks]
 I heard what y'all rappin about, but bring your stash out
 You shouldn't throw rocks if you livin in glass house
 Sneak your weak shit at us, on the low though
 Where these cats come from, speakin about po'
 He got cash to cop and I'm crashin {*car crashing*}
 But half of y'all cats just catchin up to Rae' last year
 Got guns in the jungle, call 'em Jurassic
 The chrome, the steel, the 20-shot plastic
 While y'all niggas cop jars, me and my niggas cop bars
 Gettin head from rock stars
 We blowin everything apart, I'm smashin the charts
 How I see it? (Yo, how you see it?)
 Chorus: Raekwon
 Eh yo, what you wanna be when you grow up?
 Yo, I wanna be a leader
 Slow your speed up and stop tryin to be us
 Say somethin always, got a future? Stay out the hallways
 And get yourself right, a 100 more ways
 [Rhyme Recca]
 Fly like iceberg, nice with verbs, precise words
 Bently swerve, hit the curb, jump out, cock back, spit out
 Shut your block down, get out, criminal route
 Gangsta shit, can't talk now, gun in your mouth
 Cream Team killas, cacoon cats like caterpillars
 Giant size gorillas, break niggas backs from the skrilla
 Scratch, greenback track, Fed's berserk
 That's my word, disrespect Recca, get what you deserve
 Inferno, melt down mic's, millionaire in my afterlife
 Broke bread with Christ on the last night
 Apocalypse, sleep with 4-5th, 2 clips
 Passport, cellphone with the removable micro-chip
 Specialist, 40-karat Sicillian necklace
 Matching bracelet, Cream Team crisp the basic

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:48
Tempo
93 BPM

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