| Song | House of Flying Daggers |
| Artist | Raekwon |
| Album | Only Built For Cuban Linx 2 |
| 作曲 : Coles, Hunter, Smith, Woods ... | |
| Intro chinese sample | |
| Inspectah | |
| DeckHehehehe, nobody is going to save you now | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo | |
| Inspectah | |
| DeckI pop off like a mobster boss | |
| Angel hair with the lobster sauce, summertime can't top the scorch | |
| Check my hot broad, | |
| I dropped the | |
| PorscheFBI wanna watch the force, trying to lock my source | |
| Where I'm from, hear the macs, techs, glocks and fours | |
| Hide the safe, nigga, lock the doors | |
| No respect for the cops and laws | |
| In the land where your own blood brother still plot for yours | |
| Seen things that'll drop your jaw | |
| My soldiers got dropped in war, see the mural on the project wall? | |
| Won't stop til | |
| I copped them all | |
| Wanna block me? | |
| You gots to brawl, tray shots and all | |
| Cuz I ain't on the clock for talk | |
| The Spot Rusher, blow down the spot for sure | |
| Still break off the block with raw, my stock is more | |
| The General, watch your board | |
| Raekwon:Deep pockets with the eight on me, sleep with the safe in the wall | |
| The cameras on with the make-up and all | |
| Swap six 45's, twist reefer in the flicks, papi whoadie ride | |
| Bolt his gun off, from know your horse, she lied | |
| Fly criteria, bury me in | |
| AfricaWith whips and spears, and rough diamonds out of | |
| SyriaA true don, only | |
| I could do wrong | |
| Rock fitted hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint | |
| Retard-less, | |
| I'mma blow regardless | |
| Resume is straight up live, | |
| I shank niggas up for larger | |
| E'sAnd speak with the youth in the spot, eat the fresh fruit in the crop | |
| All these hip hoppers eat cock | |
| You can see me in the street or the yacht | |
| I'd rather be promoting your block or buying fresh sneakers with gwops | |
| Yo, I'm an ill dude, always been a real dude | |
| Don't fuck around, | |
| I will spill on you and kill you in the field, boo | |
| Chorus :GZ | |
| ASoldiers in the front, let the heat pump | |
| Troops on the left, fight to the death | |
| Fam on the right, infrared lights | |
| Wolves in the back, ready to attack, for what | |
| Ghostface | |
| KillahLeather jackets on, rocked up rock stars | |
| Treacherous bank robbers, the plan gold up, we pop guards | |
| The team gotta eat, seeds is hungry, that's why we ain't scared | |
| To dump on niggas, our guns is chunky | |
| Usually we bust niggas down with bats, swell up they joints | |
| Elbow, wrists, they shins get cracked | |
| We still humiliate, brutalize, | |
| Ruger pop, pulverize | |
| Still got gear in the closet, that's stupid live | |
| From Benetton rugby skullies, | |
| Oshkosh conductor jumpers | |
| The train hats fit me lovely | |
| Rae job is to make sure the coke is fluffy | |
| While I politic his birthday bash with | |
| PuffyBagged | |
| Nia soon as | |
| I linked up, the kid ain't inked up | |
| I'm an old mummy, my gold weigh as much as | |
| King Tut (yeah, yeah) | |
| Slippers, robes is minked up, under the doorag, bro (uh, yo, yo) | |
| My three dimensional fade is clean cut | |
| Method Man | |
| Man, ya niggas ain't shit to us, still a pistol bust | |
| Split your melon like | |
| I split the | |
| DutchGot a lot of piff to puff, and | |
| I ain't come for fisticuffs | |
| Or for the cop that wanna clip the cuffs | |
| Man, is Staten in this bitch or what, don't get it twisted, we | |
| Twist it up and even mixed with dust | |
| See these fans can't resist the rush, they | |
| Wu-Tang for life | |
| Scarred for life, they can't forget the cuts | |
| Got a whole line of classic joints, and while you at it | |
| Pass the joint, let's push this music past the point | |
| Of no return, til they crash and burn, down the ashes | |
| Then placed inside | |
| Ol' Dirty | |
| Bastard's urn | |
| When it's my time to go, for sure, ya nigga goes to war | |
| What you think | |
| I brought these soldiers for? | |
| To send shot like forget me not, at any nigga | |
| Respect, bitch, that figure they gon' get me got | |
| Chinese Sample | |
| Hehe, your basic kung fu is no good | |
| You can't move fast enough | |
| And you don't have enough strength | |
| And your body movements are like a string climb | |
| It's too easy for me to trip you up(fighting) | |
| Hehehe, how's it feel, huh? | |
| It's no fair, | |
| I'm afraid my back is broken | |
| Hahaha, you still got a lot to learn |
| zuò qǔ : Coles, Hunter, Smith, Woods ... | |
| Intro chinese sample | |
| Inspectah | |
| DeckHehehehe, nobody is going to save you now | |
| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yo, yo | |
| Inspectah | |
| DeckI pop off like a mobster boss | |
| Angel hair with the lobster sauce, summertime can' t top the scorch | |
| Check my hot broad, | |
| I dropped the | |
| PorscheFBI wanna watch the force, trying to lock my source | |
| Where I' m from, hear the macs, techs, glocks and fours | |
| Hide the safe, nigga, lock the doors | |
| No respect for the cops and laws | |
| In the land where your own blood brother still plot for yours | |
| Seen things that' ll drop your jaw | |
| My soldiers got dropped in war, see the mural on the project wall? | |
| Won' t stop til | |
| I copped them all | |
| Wanna block me? | |
| You gots to brawl, tray shots and all | |
| Cuz I ain' t on the clock for talk | |
| The Spot Rusher, blow down the spot for sure | |
| Still break off the block with raw, my stock is more | |
| The General, watch your board | |
| Raekwon: Deep pockets with the eight on me, sleep with the safe in the wall | |
| The cameras on with the makeup and all | |
| Swap six 45' s, twist reefer in the flicks, papi whoadie ride | |
| Bolt his gun off, from know your horse, she lied | |
| Fly criteria, bury me in | |
| AfricaWith whips and spears, and rough diamonds out of | |
| SyriaA true don, only | |
| I could do wrong | |
| Rock fitted hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint | |
| Retardless, | |
| I' mma blow regardless | |
| Resume is straight up live, | |
| I shank niggas up for larger | |
| E' sAnd speak with the youth in the spot, eat the fresh fruit in the crop | |
| All these hip hoppers eat cock | |
| You can see me in the street or the yacht | |
| I' d rather be promoting your block or buying fresh sneakers with gwops | |
| Yo, I' m an ill dude, always been a real dude | |
| Don' t fuck around, | |
| I will spill on you and kill you in the field, boo | |
| Chorus : GZ | |
| ASoldiers in the front, let the heat pump | |
| Troops on the left, fight to the death | |
| Fam on the right, infrared lights | |
| Wolves in the back, ready to attack, for what | |
| Ghostface | |
| KillahLeather jackets on, rocked up rock stars | |
| Treacherous bank robbers, the plan gold up, we pop guards | |
| The team gotta eat, seeds is hungry, that' s why we ain' t scared | |
| To dump on niggas, our guns is chunky | |
| Usually we bust niggas down with bats, swell up they joints | |
| Elbow, wrists, they shins get cracked | |
| We still humiliate, brutalize, | |
| Ruger pop, pulverize | |
| Still got gear in the closet, that' s stupid live | |
| From Benetton rugby skullies, | |
| Oshkosh conductor jumpers | |
| The train hats fit me lovely | |
| Rae job is to make sure the coke is fluffy | |
| While I politic his birthday bash with | |
| PuffyBagged | |
| Nia soon as | |
| I linked up, the kid ain' t inked up | |
| I' m an old mummy, my gold weigh as much as | |
| King Tut yeah, yeah | |
| Slippers, robes is minked up, under the doorag, bro uh, yo, yo | |
| My three dimensional fade is clean cut | |
| Method Man | |
| Man, ya niggas ain' t shit to us, still a pistol bust | |
| Split your melon like | |
| I split the | |
| DutchGot a lot of piff to puff, and | |
| I ain' t come for fisticuffs | |
| Or for the cop that wanna clip the cuffs | |
| Man, is Staten in this bitch or what, don' t get it twisted, we | |
| Twist it up and even mixed with dust | |
| See these fans can' t resist the rush, they | |
| WuTang for life | |
| Scarred for life, they can' t forget the cuts | |
| Got a whole line of classic joints, and while you at it | |
| Pass the joint, let' s push this music past the point | |
| Of no return, til they crash and burn, down the ashes | |
| Then placed inside | |
| Ol' Dirty | |
| Bastard' s urn | |
| When it' s my time to go, for sure, ya nigga goes to war | |
| What you think | |
| I brought these soldiers for? | |
| To send shot like forget me not, at any nigga | |
| Respect, bitch, that figure they gon' get me got | |
| Chinese Sample | |
| Hehe, your basic kung fu is no good | |
| You can' t move fast enough | |
| And you don' t have enough strength | |
| And your body movements are like a string climb | |
| It' s too easy for me to trip you up fighting | |
| Hehehe, how' s it feel, huh? | |
| It' s no fair, | |
| I' m afraid my back is broken | |
| Hahaha, you still got a lot to learn |