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Chorus: Wenn Westwinde wehen, kanns Du Ultraschall sehen,wahrnehmen,Überfallen euer Sonnensystem,Wir sind......... überm All gegenwärtig. Hanfstern Gallaktika. Harz aber herzlich

Steige auf mit dem Rauch nach der Detonation, nenn mich Gallahead, die Reinkarnation.

Sharmane, Fährtensucher, Naturalist. Lebe westlich der Morgenröte als Sphärenalchimist.

Misch die uralte Sehnsucht, nach dem Rausch, mit dem Reim. Worte fallen wie Hammerschläge, in dein Bewußtsein.

verloren im Tiefenrausch, toben dimensionsverschoben, auserkoren klingen Chöre jenseits jedlicher Regionen lass meine Visionen zwischen den Zeilen. banne Gedanken auf Wolken, lass sie über schwarze Meilen eilen. Verweilen zeitlos an einem ort, der nicht ist. Im Lande Chill, wo Du die Sorgen vergisst.

Nirgens, und doch überall. Ich bin älter als die Angst, lauschte dem Urknall. Verbal Ultraschall, Westwinde ziehen weiter. Der fliegende Holländer, mein Wegbegleiter.

 

Chorus

Chronischer Cannabinolmischer

Betittel ein Rauschmittel, selbst Odol ist Alkoholischer. Ich bin nicht unbedingt aktiver mit Sativa,

doch Cannabinoider Einfluss, macht den Reimfluss melodischer, nicht agressiver, breiter.

Freestyle weiter, auch ohne Viva. Cheeba Cheeba stärkt und schwächt mich.

Langsam verlässt mich mein Kurzzeitgedächtniss. Verkehr mit Marie Huana geistig nicht Geschlechtlich,

hätt Ich schon mal gelebt, dann als Prophet von 68.

Die Blüte meiner Jugend verglühte in einer Tüte. Selbst die Passivraucher nahmen auch ein Paar Züge

und tanzten auf Homegrown-Versionen, die Wir pflanzten. Ich glaub sogar in meinem Telefon wohnen Wanzen. Ein Hauch von Indica blässt windiger, als Orkanböhen im Fön und macht meine Texte sinniger.

Stärke zwölf auf der Dichterskala, komm als Jack Hera auf deine Gala, bete zu Buddah, wie Dalai Lama.

Chorus

Cannabiniere chronologisch, nicht chronisch, Zug um Zug verchrom Ich meine Lunge schon Ich,Joe um Joe genieß Ich, den Jokereffekt, der in jedem guten Joker steckt, er schmeckt, und tut seinen Zweck direkt.

Doch der Gehirnentkomposter hilft nicht beim entwirren, sondern treibt Geschöpfe zum umherirren, mit kirre machenden Schliren auf den Frontscheiben, prompt schneiden

sie schlecht ab, weil sich sich selbst irritieren, ihr Ich ver-wiren, schließ dich und entleer dich gar nichts mehr kapieren. Peil an , setz auf, steh fest, stell fest, was mein Scheibensehtest bewirkt

hat, denn Pahmad, macht dat deine Scheiben gleich viel reiner, denn einmal Eimer für alle, allet im Eimer.

Ob ihr wirklich richtig steht, spürt Ihr, wenn Ihr dicht abgeht.

 

 

 

Kopf Stein Pflaster

 

Sprengsätze für Fahrtkosten und Pennplätze, weil Ich für solche Anlässe,Trend und das letzte Hemd setze.

Maßgeschneiderte Kragenweite, komm halt den Atem an, wir stehen in ganzer Bandbreite voller Tatendrang, entarten dann, wie Evolution die Erde in Ihrem Werdegang, warteten lang.

Wenn ehrlich währt, dann erfährt man wann. Forever young aber, ey: "Fair play!",das ist genau wie bei Sergeij:

Es kommt ganz auf den Anlauf an. Auf unserer Laufbahn braucht man ´nen Karavan

Der Weg ist hart wie Kopfsteinpflasterstrassen nach Kasaikstan. Ich mach den Leihwagen klar und nach drei Tagen war nichts einladender als: " Scheinbar keiner da!" Wenn Arbeit hier nicht Kraft mal Weg ist, wiederleg es! Denn als nächstes beweg Ich Träges als wär es Tetris. Und nur ein paar Minuten später mißt man im Quadranten Beta unseren Einschlag in Verfluchten Newton-meter.

 

Fahren Filme wie Lynch, lost Highway, kein Airplay. Himmelfahrtskommando auf dem Weg zur Gangway.

Unsichtbare Turbulenzen, denn der Ruf eilt uns vorraus. Nicht packbar, wie Schall. Meilensteine beim Dauerlauf. Befahr´n die schiefe Bahn, wie Paris-Dakar. Such verlorenes Wissen zwischen Mekka und Medina. Mehr Finger im Spiel als alle Arme von Kalima. Eure Treffen effektiv, wie Konferenzen übers Klima.

Bis hierher ging´s gut, doch La Haine, zuviel Wut. Kommen selten allein."Ich mein 5 gegen einen"

Krumme Touren auf Tonspuren.

Kumitee auf Odysee, wehen mit Effet durch die Sniper-Allee. Du ahnst nur was kommt, suchst den Wendepunkt am Horizont. Dein Nachrichtendienst sucht nach spuren an der Front. Weil Instinkt uns niemals linkt, stehen wir da wo wir sind. Die goldene Mitte. Fand den Weg durchs Labyrinth. Rüsten auf wie Victor-Charlie, tarnen die Rüstungsindustrie. Lokale Raportage, Prime Time, C.E.T.

 

Klar das Erkenntniss, hart sein kann, wie das Harmanngeständnis, wird Dir vielleicht zum Verhängnis

"Jetzt führ ihn nicht in Bedrängnis" Sonst dreh Ich durch wie El Ninhos. Kopfnüsse knacken dann, geben den Ton an wie in Rom, San Pidrinos, absacken wie Venedig werden wir eh nie, macht euch da keine Gedanken drum, wir packen den Quantensprung, wie so´n Paar Elefantenjungen. Mit ungespaltenen Zungen prägt mein Mund mein Umfelt,

während er laut wie´n Hund bellt, melkt mein Gehirn meine Umwelt.

Klar, daß ihr draufsteht, falls unsere Rechnung aufgeht, seid ihr im Arsch, wie´n Bodypacker der draufgeht.

Hart wenn man drauf pappen bleibt, wie Ich auf meiner Kindheit, in Bochum-Wattenscheid:

Saufmord,Kopp-Bordsteindashing. Top smashin, wie der Darwin-Award. Wenn Ihr Wahnsinn meßt, sind wir Chef, wie STF.

Wir halten selbst beim Blombenbrechtest bombenfest.Sprachliche Mittel, zur Dreck-Gedanken Reinigung,

im weißen Kittel mit Kopfsteinpflaster zu deiner Steinigung.

Wu-Tang

 

WU-TANG CLAN!!

Bring da Ruckus:

A game of chess, is like a swordfight

You must think first, before you move

Toad style is immensely strong, and immune to nearly any weapon

When it's properly used, it's almost invincible

Verse One: U-God

Raw I'ma give it to ya, with no trivia

Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia

My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation

like the Emancipation Proclamation

Weak MC's approach with slang that's dead

you might as well run into the wall and bang your head

I'm pushin' force, my force your doubtin'

I'm makin' devils cower to the Caucus Mountains

Verse Two: Inspectah Deck

Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire

Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah

I come from the Shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from

is comin through with nuff niggaz, and nuff guns

so if you wanna come sweatin, stressin contestin

you'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection

Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk

Phony niggaz are outlined in chalk

A man vexed, is what the projects made me

Rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me

Steamrollin niggaz like a eighteen wheeler

with the drunk driver drivin, there's no survivin

Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef

Ruff like Timberland wear, yeah

Me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there

Peace to all the crooks, all the niggaz with bad looks

Bald heads, braids, blow this hook

We got chrome tecs, nickel plated macs

Black axe, drug dealin styles in phat stacks

I only been a good nigga for a minute though

cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo

I got beef wit commercial-ass niggaz with gold teeth

lampin in a Lexus eatin beef

Straight up and down don't even bother

I got fourty niggaz up in here now, who kill niggaz fathers

Chorus: Method Man

My peoples are you with me where you at?

In the front, in the back killa-bees on attack

my peoples are you with me where you at?

Smokin meth hittin caps on the block with the gats

Verse Four: Ol' Dirty Bastard

Here I go, deep type flow

Jacque Cousteau could never get this low..I'm

cherry bombin shits... BOOM

Just warmin up a little bit, vroom vroom

Rappinin is what's happenin

Keep the pockets stacked and then, hands clappin and

At the party when I move my body

Gotta get up, and be-eeeee somebody!

Grab the microphone put strength to the bone

DUH-DUH-DUH...enter the Wu-Tang zone

Sure enough when I rock that stuff

Guff puff?? I'm gonna catch your bluff tuff

rough, kickin rhymes like Jim Kelly

or Alex Haley im a Mi-..Beetle Bailey rhymes

comin raw style, hardcore

Niggaz be comin to the hip-hop store

Comin to buy gro-cery from me

Tryin to be a hip-hop MC

The law, in order to enter the Wu-Tang

You must bring the Ol' Dirty Bastard type slang

Represent the GZA, Abbott, RZA, Shaquan, Inspectah Deck

Dirty Hoe gettin low wit his flow

Introducin, the Ghost..face.. Killah!!

No one could get illa

Chorus

Verse Five: Ghostface Killah

Speakin of the devil psych, no it's the God, get the shit right

Mega trife, and yo I killed you in a past life

On the mic while you was kickin that fast shit

You reneged tried again, and got blasted

Half mastered ass style mad ruff task

When I struck I had on Timbs and a black mask

Remember that shit? I know you don't remember jack

That night yo I wuz hittin like a spiked bat

and then you thought I was bugged out, and crazy

strapped for nonsense, after me became lazy

Yo, nobody budge while I shot slugs

Never shot thugs, I'm runnin with thugs that flood mugs

So grab your eight plus one, start flippin and trippin

Niggaz is jettin I'm lickin off son

[Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang!!!!]

Verse Six: Masta Killa

Homicide's illegal and death is the penalty

What justifies the homicide, when he dies?

In his own iniquity it's the

Master of the Mantis Rapture comin at cha

We have an APB on an MC Killer

Looks like the work of a Master

Evidence indicates that's it's stature

Merciless like a terrorist hard to capture

The flow, changes like a chameleon

Plays like a friend, and stabs you like a dagger

This technique attacks the immune system

Disguised like a lie paralyzin the victim

You scream, as it enters your bloodstream

Erupts your brain from the pain these thoughts contain

Novin on a nigga with the speed of a centipede

and injure - ANY MOTHERFUCKIN CONTENDER

 

Tearz:

After laughter, comes tears

Verse One: The RZA

Yo check yo yo, check the script

Me and the gods get it ripped

Blunts in the dip, forty dogs in my lip

Had a box, 'Boom Boom' the bass will blast

We was laughing, at all the girls that passed

Conversation, brothers had begin to discuss

(Hey yo, Ra, remember that kid ya bust?)

Aw yeah, he ran, but he didn't get far

Cause I dropped him, heh heh heh heh heh HA

Not knowin, exactly what lied ahead

My little brother, my mother sent him out for bread

Get the Wonder, it's a hot day in the summer

Didn't expect, to come across, a crazy gunner

"Hey Shorty, check it for the bag and the dough"

But he was brave, looked him in the eye, and said "No!!"

Money splattered him, BOW! then he snatched the bag

In his pockets, then he jetted up the Ave.

Girls screamin, the noise up and down the block

(Hey, Rakeem!) What? (Your little brother got shot!)

I ran frantically, then I dropped down to his feet

I saw the blood, all over, the hot concrete

I picked him up, then I held him by his head

His eyes shut, that's when I knew he was...

Aw man! How do I say goodbye?

It's alway the good ones who have to die

Memories in the corner of my mind

Flashbacks, I was laughin all the time

I taught him, all about the bees and birds

But I wish I had a chance to sing these three words

Chorus

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer

Me and my man, my ace big Moe from the shelter

Bout to hit the skins, from this girl named Thelma

Now Thelma had a rep, that was higher than her neck

Every girl from Shaolin dissed her respect

We was stimmy, you know how it is when you're blitzed

Three o'clock in the morning, something gots to give

Moe said he'll go first, I said I'll take next

Here, take this raincoat, and practice safe sex

He seemed to ignore, I said be for real

She's not even worth it, to go raw deal

A man's gonna do what a man's gonna do

He got butt-naked and stuck the power U

Twenty minutes went by, my man went out, without a doubt

I'm not pumpin' up, I am, airin out

Hey yo, he came out laughing with glory

I'm surprised, he's still livin', to tell his story

But he carried on, with the same old stuff

with Stephanie, like a whammy, he pressed his luck

Both tried to be down with O.P.P.

Ain't nuttin' wrong but he got caught with the H.I.V. now

No life to live, doc says two more years

So after the laughter, I guess comes the tears

 

CAN IT BE ALL SO SIMPLE THERE:

Can it be that it was all so simple then]

KnowhatI'msayin, take you on this lyrical high real quick

Nineteen ninety three exoticness

KnowhatI'msayin, let's get technical

Where's your bone at, get up on that shit aight

Yo!!

Verse One:

Started off on the island, AK Shaolin

Niggaz whylin, gun shots thrown the phone dialin

Back in the days of eight now, makin a tape now

Rae gotta get a plate now

Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one

Till I got (BAM! BAM!) thrown one

Yeah, my pops was a friend since sixteen

Shootin' that (that's that shit!) in his blood stream

That's the life of a crimey, real live crimey

If niggas know the half is behind me

Day one, yo, growin all up in the ghetto

Now I'm a weed fiend, jettin the Palmetto

In Medina, yo no doubt the God got crazy clout

Pushin the big joint from down South

So if you're filthy stacked up

Betta watch ya back and duck

Cause these fiends they got it cracked up

Now my man from up north, now he got the law

It's solid as a rock and crazy salt

No jokes, I'm not playin, get his folks

Desert Eagle his dick and put 'em in a yolk (AAH!)

And to know for sure, I got reck and rip shop

I pointed a gat at his mother's knot

(Yo, Rae, don't do that shit, man! Don't do that shit! )

Fuck that

Dedicated to the winners and the losers

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Dedicated to all jeeps and land cruisers

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Dedicated to the Y's, 850-I's

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Dedicated to niggas who do drive-bys

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Dedicated to the Lexus and the Ax

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Dedicated to MPV's phat!

(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)

Nigguh, yeah, yeah!

Verse Two: Ghostface Killer

Yo!

Kickin the fly cliches

Doin duets with Rae and A, happens to make my day

Though I'm tired of bustin off shots havin to rock knots

Runnin up in spots and makin shit hot

I'd rather flip shows instead of those

Hangin on my living room wall

My first joint, and it went gold

I want to lamp, I want to be in the shade

Plus the spot light

Gettin my dick rubbed all night

I wanna have me a phat yacht

And enough land to go and plant my own sess crops

But for now, it just a big dream

Cause I find myself in the place where I'm last seen

My thoughts must be relaxed

Be able to maintain

Cause times is changed and life is strange

The glorious days is gone, and everybody's doin' bad

Yo, mad lives is up for grabs

Brothers, passin away, I gotta make wakes

Receivin all types of calls from upstate

Yo, I can't cope with the pressure

Settlin for lesser

The god left lessons on my dresser

So I can bloom and blossom, find a new way

Continue to make hits with Rae and A

Sunshine plays a major part in the daytime

[Peace to mankind Ghostface carry a black nine, nigga

Word up

It's on like that]

[Can it be that it was all so simple then

Album:Liquid Swords /  GZA Song:   Shadowboxin'
Intro: Method Man/Johnny Blaze

[special technique] Fuck that
[special technique of shadowboxing] God damn
(The GZA, god damn!)
(The GZA, god damn!) Pledge allegiance to the hip-hop!
(Method, god damn!) I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop
(Maximilli-on, Maximilli-on)
(Uh, yeah, ahh, uh) Johnny Blaze
I pledge allegiance to the hip-hop
(Johnny Blaze) Maximilli-on
Maximilli-on

Verse One: Method Man/Johnny Blaze

I breaks it down to the bone gristle
Ill speaking Scud missle heat seeking
Johnny Blazing, nightmares like Wes Craven
Niggaz gunnin, my third eye seen it coming
Before it happen
You know about them fucking Staten
Kids they smashin
Everything huh, in any shape form or fashion
Now everybody talking bout they blastin, hmmm
Is you bustin steel or is you flashin?  Hmmm
Talkin out your assHOLE
You shoulda learnt about the flow and peasy afro
Ticallion stallion, chinky eye and snot nosed
From my naps to the bunion on my big toe
I keeps it movin, know just what the fuck I'm doin
Rap insomniac, fiend to catch a nigga snoozing
Slip the cardiac arrest me, excorcist hip-hop posess me
Crunch a nigga like a Nestle, you know my STEEZ
burning to the third degree, sneaky ass alley cat top pedigree
The head toucher, industry party bum rusher
You don't like it dick up in ya fuck ya

(allow me to demonstrate) That's right, you corny-ass
(the skill of Shaolin)    rap motherfuckers
(The special technique)   Better go back and check
(of shadowboxing)         your fuckin stacks
(Shadowboxing)            Cause your naps ain't nappy enough
                          And your reefs ain't rugged enough
                          Bitch

Verse Two: The Genius/Maximillion

I slayed MC's back in the rec room era
My style broke motherfuckin backs like Ken Patera
Most rap niggaz came loud but unheard
Once I pulled ut, round em off to the nearest third
Check these non visual niggaz, with tapes and a portrait
Flood the seminar, tryin to orbit this corporate
indsutry, but what them niggaz can't see
must break through like the Wu, unexpectedly
Protect Ya Neck, my sword still remain imperial
Before I blast the mic, RZA scratch off the serial
We reign all year round from June to June
While niggaz bite immediately if not soon
Set the lynchin, and form the execution date
As this two thousand beyond slang suffocate
Amplify sample through vacumn tubes compressions
cause RZA, to charge niggaz twenty G's a session

Verse Three: Method Man/Johnny Blaze

When my mind start to clickin, and the strategy
is mastered the plot thickens, this be that Wu shit
I don't give a cotten-pickin FUCK
about a brother tryin to size a nigga up, I hold my own
Hard-hat protect your dome
Look at mama baby boy actin like he grown
No time for sleep, I gets deep as a baritone
Killa bee, that be holdin down his honeycomb, loungin son
Wu brother number one, protect your neck
Flying guillotines here they come, bloody bastards
Hard times and killer tactics, spittin words plus
semi-automatic slurs, peep the graphic
novel from the genie bottle, hit the clutch
shift the gear now, full throttle, time to bungee
To the next episode, I keeps it grungy
Hand on my nutsac, and spittin lung-ghies
At a wack nigga dat, don't understand the fact
When it come to RZA tra-cks I don't know how to act
Real rap from the Stat, killa hill projects
How to be exact, break it down
All and together now
Things are getting good looking better now

(Allow me to demonstrate the skill of Shaolin)
(Sha-shadowboxing, the special technique of shadowboxing)
(Shadowboxing)




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