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Raekwon - Incarcerated Scarfaces

Incarcerated Scarfaces
Raekwon
04:42
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  • Raekwon
  • MP3 320Kbps
  • 10.79 Mb
  • 04:42

Song lyrics

— He looks determined without being ruthless. Something heroic in his manner. There's a courage about him. Doesn't look like a killer. Comes across so calm. Acts like he has a dream. Full of passion.
— You don't trust me, huh?
— Well, you know why
— I do, we're not supposed to trust anyone in our profession anyway.

[Intro:]
Knock niggas out the box all the time.
Bitches know my mothafuckin' repertoire, big one.
Yeah, mothafucka, straight up,
I'll fuck your whole team up.
Take care of B.I., Chef.
Yeah, bust it, fly G.I. niggas.

[Chorus:]
Now, yo! Yo, what up? Your time is runnin' out,
It's for real, though, let's connect politic, ditto.
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.

[Verse 1:]
My thug-related style attract millions, fans,
They understand my plan, who's the kid up in the green Land?
Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose,
Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised,
Fake be frontin', hourglass heads niggas be wantin'
Shuttin' down your slot, time for pumpin'.
Poisonous sting, which thumps up and act chumps,
Rae's a heavy generator, but, yo, guess who's the black Trump?
Dough be flowin' by the hours, Wu, we got the collars,
Scholars, word life, peace to Power and my whole unit,
Word up, quick to set it, don't wet it,
Real niggas lick shots, peace, Connecticut.

[Chorus:]
Now, yo! Yo, what up? Your time is runnin' out,
It's for real, though, let's connect politic, ditto.
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.

[Verse 2:]
Chef'll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable,
Real niggas raise up, spend your money, argue,
But this time is for the uninvited,
Go 'head and rhyme to it, bitch nigga mics is getting' fired.
Morphine chicks be burnin' like chlorine,
Niggas recognize from here to Baltimore to Fort Greene,
But hold up, Moët be tastin' like throw-up,
My mob roll up, dripped to death whips rolled up,
You never had no wins, slidin' in these dens
With Timbs, with MAC 10's and broke friends.
You got guns? Got guns too, what up, son?
Do you wanna battle for cash and see who sons who?
I probably wax, tax, smack rap niggas,
Who fax, niggas' lyrics is wack, nigga!
Can't stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank bustin' Scud missles,
You rollin' like Trump, you get your meat lumped,
For real, it's just slang rap democracy.
Here's the policy, slide off the ring, plus the Wallabees,
Check the status, soon to see me at, Caesar's Palace eatin' salads,
We beatin' mics sending ki's to Dallas,
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell.
From where we at to my man's cell,
From staircase to stage, minimum wage,
But soon to get a article in Rap Page,
But all I need is my house, my gat, my Ac',
Bank account fat, it's goin' down like that,
And pardon the French but let me speak Italian,
Black Stallion wildlin' on Shaolin,
That means the island of Staten,
And niggas carry gats and mad police from Manhattan.

[Chorus:]
Now, yo! Yo, what up? Your time is runnin' out,
It's for real, though, let's connect politic, ditto.
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.

[Verse 3:]
I do this for barbershop niggas in the Plaza
Catchin' asthma, Rae is stickin' gun-flashers,
Well-dressed, skatin' through the projects with big ones,
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one upstairs.
Switch like a chameleon, hit Brazilians,
Pass the cash or leave your children, leave the building.
Niggas, yo, they be foldin' like envelopes,
Under pressure, like Lou Ferrigno on coke.
Yo, Africans denyin' niggas up in yellow cabs,
Musty like funk, wavin' they arms to Arabs.
Sit back, coolin' like Kahlúa's on rocks,
On the crack spots, rubberband wrapped on my knots,
View bitches, who fuck dreads on Sudafeds,
Pussy's hurtin', they did it for a yard for the feds.
Word up, cousin? Nigga, I seen it,
Like a 27-inch Zenith, believe it.

[Chorus:]
Now, yo! Yo, what up? Your time is runnin' out,
It's for real, though, let's connect politic, ditto.
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases,
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces.

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