"House Of Flying Daggers" lyrics
(feat. Inspectah Deck, Ghostface Killah, Method Man, GZA)
[Sample:]
"Hahahaha. Nobody is going to save you now!
[Raekwon & GZA:]
Soldiers 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!
Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump
[Inspectah Deck:]
I 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 Porsche
FBI wanna watch the force, tryna lock my source
Where I'm from—hear the macs, Tecs, 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 cop them all
Wanna block me? You gots to brawl, trade shots and all
'Cause 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 camo's on with the makeup and all
Swap six 45s, twist reefer in the flicks
Pop your whoadie, ride
Bolt his gun off, from know your whore, she lied
Fly criteria, bury me in Africa
With whips and spears and rough diamonds out of Syria
True don, only I could do wrong
Rock fitted hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint
Retard-less, I'ma blow regardless
Résumé is straight up live, I shank niggas up for larger Es
And speak with the youth in the spot
Eat the fresh fruit in the crop; all these hip-hoppers eat cock
You could see me in the street or the yacht
I'd rather be promoting your block
Or buying fresh sneakers with guaps
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
[Raekwon & GZA:]
Soldiers 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
Soldiers 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 Killah:]
Leather jackets on, rocked-up rock stars
Treacherous bank robbers, the plan go dub, 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 Puffy
Bag me as soon as I linked up, the kid ain't inked up
I'm an old mummy, my gold weigh as much as King Tut
Slippers, robes is minked up (Yeah, ugh)
Under the do-rag, bro, my three-dimensional fade is clean-cut (Yo, yo)
[Method Man:]
Man, y'all niggas ain't shit to us, still a pistol bust
Split your melon like I split the Dutch (Yeah)
Got a lot of piff to puff, and I ain't come for fisticuffs (Pff)
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 mix 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 it crash and burn, down the ashes
Then placed inside Ol' Dirty Bastard's urn
When it's my time to go, for sure, your nigga goes to war
What you think I brought these soldiers for?
To send shots like forget-me-nots at any nigga
Respect, bitch, that figure they gon' get me got
[Sample:]
"Haha, your basic kung fu's no good
You can't move fast enough!
And you don't have enough strength!
And your body movements are like a street fighter!
It's too easy for me to trip you up!"
"Hahaha, how's it feel, eh?"
"Ah, it's broken! I feel my back's broken!"
"Haha, you've still got a lot to learn!"
"Hahahaha. Nobody is going to save you now!
[Raekwon & GZA:]
Soldiers 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!
Soldiers in the front, let the heat pump
[Inspectah Deck:]
I 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 Porsche
FBI wanna watch the force, tryna lock my source
Where I'm from—hear the macs, Tecs, 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 cop them all
Wanna block me? You gots to brawl, trade shots and all
'Cause 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 camo's on with the makeup and all
Swap six 45s, twist reefer in the flicks
Pop your whoadie, ride
Bolt his gun off, from know your whore, she lied
Fly criteria, bury me in Africa
With whips and spears and rough diamonds out of Syria
True don, only I could do wrong
Rock fitted hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint
Retard-less, I'ma blow regardless
Résumé is straight up live, I shank niggas up for larger Es
And speak with the youth in the spot
Eat the fresh fruit in the crop; all these hip-hoppers eat cock
You could see me in the street or the yacht
I'd rather be promoting your block
Or buying fresh sneakers with guaps
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
[Raekwon & GZA:]
Soldiers 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
Soldiers 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 Killah:]
Leather jackets on, rocked-up rock stars
Treacherous bank robbers, the plan go dub, 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 Puffy
Bag me as soon as I linked up, the kid ain't inked up
I'm an old mummy, my gold weigh as much as King Tut
Slippers, robes is minked up (Yeah, ugh)
Under the do-rag, bro, my three-dimensional fade is clean-cut (Yo, yo)
[Method Man:]
Man, y'all niggas ain't shit to us, still a pistol bust
Split your melon like I split the Dutch (Yeah)
Got a lot of piff to puff, and I ain't come for fisticuffs (Pff)
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 mix 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 it crash and burn, down the ashes
Then placed inside Ol' Dirty Bastard's urn
When it's my time to go, for sure, your nigga goes to war
What you think I brought these soldiers for?
To send shots like forget-me-nots at any nigga
Respect, bitch, that figure they gon' get me got
[Sample:]
"Haha, your basic kung fu's no good
You can't move fast enough!
And you don't have enough strength!
And your body movements are like a street fighter!
It's too easy for me to trip you up!"
"Hahaha, how's it feel, eh?"
"Ah, it's broken! I feel my back's broken!"
"Haha, you've still got a lot to learn!"
Writer(s): Clifford Smith, Dennis David Coles, Corey Woods, James Dewitt Yancey, Jason S. Hunter
