Secret Rivals Lyrics
| Song | Secret Rivals |
| Artist | Masta Killa |
| Artist | YoungStar |
| Album | No Said Date |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Turner | |
| (Intro: Killah Priest (Method Man)) | |
| Uh... musical clever | |
| You know what time it is (Ooh-ahh, Meth Tical) | |
| Yeah... what... (Hey, did you turn my mic down | |
| Oh.. my headphone fell off.. damn..) | |
| (Killah Priest) | |
| Death come to those who oppose | |
| Knockin' at the door, holding a rose | |
| In plain clothes, when the face ice cold | |
| Lock your windows, still I come in when the wind blows | |
| Come in slow, suddenly your eyes close | |
| Then your body set through your soul, it rose | |
| Turn into a black crow and fly into the internal night | |
| That's when I also take flight | |
| I turn into a great falcon | |
| With mighty wings, when they flap, they move mountains | |
| I leap on your back, like a wild fucking monkey | |
| Eyes are blood shot read, with a growling tummy | |
| Beat your fucking back out, like a gorilla | |
| When I was tore, I figure my, out the house of mirrors | |
| I show up to a recording session, with no facial expression | |
| I'm just there like I crept in | |
| Escape through the east gate, return through the west ends | |
| When the son said, I'm like the westerns beneath the moon light | |
| And the crescent, Priest, I have a stance, that's strong | |
| When I perform, I transform, into a sandstorm | |
| Leaving one third of the land torn | |
| I'm like mice, I react strange | |
| 'm like a terratrane, I react crazy when the weather change | |
| Then the father of a hurricane, handcuff pain | |
| I whip tornados with iron chains | |
| I make volcanos scream out my name | |
| Niggaz kill me, try'nna escape my wrath | |
| Through death, don't you know, I'm crazy muthafucka, I hold my breath.. | |
| (Interlude: Method Man) | |
| Flicks... sluggy... one time | |
| For your muthafuckin' mind | |
| Wu-Tang Forever, this is just the next chamber, baby | |
| (Fish filet, fish filet) Ah, ah-ah-ah | |
| (Method Man) | |
| We walking dogs, foot soldiers, fuck you all | |
| Guns and roses, play the wall | |
| The final curtain calls every day, all day | |
| We hurtin' ya'll, project hallways is triflin' | |
| Public Enemy, number one, still fightin' | |
| The power, like Tyson | |
| When nothing else work, start biting | |
| Swallow up that weak shit, they writing | |
| Spit it out, frustrated with the line | |
| Hard for me to get it out | |
| Intellectual, architect, bomb threat to a vegetable | |
| Mr. Meth, you can get the left and right testicle | |
| Step to the rear, Wu-Tang on arrival | |
| Raised in the ghetto, singin' songs for survival | |
| Nothing else matter, suspect chin niggaz shatter | |
| Clap a mad rapper, red dot beemin' on the blood, splatter | |
| University, anniversary of terror | |
| It's now, or it's never | |
| Ain't no in betweens in the cold war | |
| Can't hold it down, got a thousand that can hold yours | |
| Starvin', pardon me, God, I get a charge | |
| Like a human lighting rod, strike back with no regard | |
| For the innocent, harder than the bricks in my tenements | |
| Wu-Tang, forever and a day, webe killin' it | |
| (Masta Killa) | |
| So patient, they sat there in the aisles and waited | |
| For the testimony, hungry, for a statement from the one and only | |
| Thristy for the ceremony at and, true Wu die hard fans | |
| Now look how we rock, make a freestyle drop, old school like the wop | |
| My grandaddy used to do this dance called the slop | |
| I keep it hip hop for ya'll, we don't stop | |
| Got ladies by the flock, no safety on the glock | |
| Stop, look and listen when the semi auto's pop, your neck | |
| Mock with the rope, who can match palm | |
| I'm strong as a nuclear bomb, dangerous armed | |
| Have you not prepared yourself, you've been warned | |
| Gun shot to the informer, Killa Bee Swarm | |
| Caught 'em on the corner of Lavonia | |
| Reported missing, found him in the fetal position | |
| Shot twice, armed with the rocket | |
| Blind for the target, dipped on arrival | |
| Suspenseful, kill or be killed, pass the rifle |
| zuo qu : Turner | |
| Intro: Killah Priest Method Man | |
| Uh... musical clever | |
| You know what time it is Oohahh, Meth Tical | |
| Yeah... what... Hey, did you turn my mic down | |
| Oh.. my headphone fell off.. damn.. | |
| Killah Priest | |
| Death come to those who oppose | |
| Knockin' at the door, holding a rose | |
| In plain clothes, when the face ice cold | |
| Lock your windows, still I come in when the wind blows | |
| Come in slow, suddenly your eyes close | |
| Then your body set through your soul, it rose | |
| Turn into a black crow and fly into the internal night | |
| That' s when I also take flight | |
| I turn into a great falcon | |
| With mighty wings, when they flap, they move mountains | |
| I leap on your back, like a wild fucking monkey | |
| Eyes are blood shot read, with a growling tummy | |
| Beat your fucking back out, like a gorilla | |
| When I was tore, I figure my, out the house of mirrors | |
| I show up to a recording session, with no facial expression | |
| I' m just there like I crept in | |
| Escape through the east gate, return through the west ends | |
| When the son said, I' m like the westerns beneath the moon light | |
| And the crescent, Priest, I have a stance, that' s strong | |
| When I perform, I transform, into a sandstorm | |
| Leaving one third of the land torn | |
| I' m like mice, I react strange | |
| ' m like a terratrane, I react crazy when the weather change | |
| Then the father of a hurricane, handcuff pain | |
| I whip tornados with iron chains | |
| I make volcanos scream out my name | |
| Niggaz kill me, try' nna escape my wrath | |
| Through death, don' t you know, I' m crazy muthafucka, I hold my breath.. | |
| Interlude: Method Man | |
| Flicks... sluggy... one time | |
| For your muthafuckin' mind | |
| WuTang Forever, this is just the next chamber, baby | |
| Fish filet, fish filet Ah, ahahah | |
| Method Man | |
| We walking dogs, foot soldiers, fuck you all | |
| Guns and roses, play the wall | |
| The final curtain calls every day, all day | |
| We hurtin' ya' ll, project hallways is triflin' | |
| Public Enemy, number one, still fightin' | |
| The power, like Tyson | |
| When nothing else work, start biting | |
| Swallow up that weak shit, they writing | |
| Spit it out, frustrated with the line | |
| Hard for me to get it out | |
| Intellectual, architect, bomb threat to a vegetable | |
| Mr. Meth, you can get the left and right testicle | |
| Step to the rear, WuTang on arrival | |
| Raised in the ghetto, singin' songs for survival | |
| Nothing else matter, suspect chin niggaz shatter | |
| Clap a mad rapper, red dot beemin' on the blood, splatter | |
| University, anniversary of terror | |
| It' s now, or it' s never | |
| Ain' t no in betweens in the cold war | |
| Can' t hold it down, got a thousand that can hold yours | |
| Starvin', pardon me, God, I get a charge | |
| Like a human lighting rod, strike back with no regard | |
| For the innocent, harder than the bricks in my tenements | |
| WuTang, forever and a day, webe killin' it | |
| Masta Killa | |
| So patient, they sat there in the aisles and waited | |
| For the testimony, hungry, for a statement from the one and only | |
| Thristy for the ceremony at and, true Wu die hard fans | |
| Now look how we rock, make a freestyle drop, old school like the wop | |
| My grandaddy used to do this dance called the slop | |
| I keep it hip hop for ya' ll, we don' t stop | |
| Got ladies by the flock, no safety on the glock | |
| Stop, look and listen when the semi auto' s pop, your neck | |
| Mock with the rope, who can match palm | |
| I' m strong as a nuclear bomb, dangerous armed | |
| Have you not prepared yourself, you' ve been warned | |
| Gun shot to the informer, Killa Bee Swarm | |
| Caught ' em on the corner of Lavonia | |
| Reported missing, found him in the fetal position | |
| Shot twice, armed with the rocket | |
| Blind for the target, dipped on arrival | |
| Suspenseful, kill or be killed, pass the rifle |
| zuò qǔ : Turner | |
| Intro: Killah Priest Method Man | |
| Uh... musical clever | |
| You know what time it is Oohahh, Meth Tical | |
| Yeah... what... Hey, did you turn my mic down | |
| Oh.. my headphone fell off.. damn.. | |
| Killah Priest | |
| Death come to those who oppose | |
| Knockin' at the door, holding a rose | |
| In plain clothes, when the face ice cold | |
| Lock your windows, still I come in when the wind blows | |
| Come in slow, suddenly your eyes close | |
| Then your body set through your soul, it rose | |
| Turn into a black crow and fly into the internal night | |
| That' s when I also take flight | |
| I turn into a great falcon | |
| With mighty wings, when they flap, they move mountains | |
| I leap on your back, like a wild fucking monkey | |
| Eyes are blood shot read, with a growling tummy | |
| Beat your fucking back out, like a gorilla | |
| When I was tore, I figure my, out the house of mirrors | |
| I show up to a recording session, with no facial expression | |
| I' m just there like I crept in | |
| Escape through the east gate, return through the west ends | |
| When the son said, I' m like the westerns beneath the moon light | |
| And the crescent, Priest, I have a stance, that' s strong | |
| When I perform, I transform, into a sandstorm | |
| Leaving one third of the land torn | |
| I' m like mice, I react strange | |
| ' m like a terratrane, I react crazy when the weather change | |
| Then the father of a hurricane, handcuff pain | |
| I whip tornados with iron chains | |
| I make volcanos scream out my name | |
| Niggaz kill me, try' nna escape my wrath | |
| Through death, don' t you know, I' m crazy muthafucka, I hold my breath.. | |
| Interlude: Method Man | |
| Flicks... sluggy... one time | |
| For your muthafuckin' mind | |
| WuTang Forever, this is just the next chamber, baby | |
| Fish filet, fish filet Ah, ahahah | |
| Method Man | |
| We walking dogs, foot soldiers, fuck you all | |
| Guns and roses, play the wall | |
| The final curtain calls every day, all day | |
| We hurtin' ya' ll, project hallways is triflin' | |
| Public Enemy, number one, still fightin' | |
| The power, like Tyson | |
| When nothing else work, start biting | |
| Swallow up that weak shit, they writing | |
| Spit it out, frustrated with the line | |
| Hard for me to get it out | |
| Intellectual, architect, bomb threat to a vegetable | |
| Mr. Meth, you can get the left and right testicle | |
| Step to the rear, WuTang on arrival | |
| Raised in the ghetto, singin' songs for survival | |
| Nothing else matter, suspect chin niggaz shatter | |
| Clap a mad rapper, red dot beemin' on the blood, splatter | |
| University, anniversary of terror | |
| It' s now, or it' s never | |
| Ain' t no in betweens in the cold war | |
| Can' t hold it down, got a thousand that can hold yours | |
| Starvin', pardon me, God, I get a charge | |
| Like a human lighting rod, strike back with no regard | |
| For the innocent, harder than the bricks in my tenements | |
| WuTang, forever and a day, webe killin' it | |
| Masta Killa | |
| So patient, they sat there in the aisles and waited | |
| For the testimony, hungry, for a statement from the one and only | |
| Thristy for the ceremony at and, true Wu die hard fans | |
| Now look how we rock, make a freestyle drop, old school like the wop | |
| My grandaddy used to do this dance called the slop | |
| I keep it hip hop for ya' ll, we don' t stop | |
| Got ladies by the flock, no safety on the glock | |
| Stop, look and listen when the semi auto' s pop, your neck | |
| Mock with the rope, who can match palm | |
| I' m strong as a nuclear bomb, dangerous armed | |
| Have you not prepared yourself, you' ve been warned | |
| Gun shot to the informer, Killa Bee Swarm | |
| Caught ' em on the corner of Lavonia | |
| Reported missing, found him in the fetal position | |
| Shot twice, armed with the rocket | |
| Blind for the target, dipped on arrival | |
| Suspenseful, kill or be killed, pass the rifle |
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