Paroles Weight Swollen Members

Weight

(feat. Ghostface Killah, The Alchemist)

[Ghostface Killah:]
Ayo my cocaine grimey like Colgate
And when Christ comes, I'm a go relocate
Finish off them dimes, big slabs of crack, write in my gangsta's will
Burry me at the plate in Bronx Bombersfield
Give my young gods the four horses
My baby girls get the pink Porches
Dookie gems and they're all gorgeous
King Tone had a mean fortress
Of french maids blowing me down like Ferra Faucet
My gun collection is big in the Adolf section
My little mini me heat bump off the?
Mostly known for my earlobes
Four million dollar disco balls, I shit dough
My wrist cut bang glass on the crystal floor
At Club Shizznit with Romey Rome, just came home
Violated parole selling cell phones, with a Snoop Dogg perm
His brother puff sherm through to and big worm

[Chorus x2: The Alchemist]
Weight, pop pop pop, money fold up
Weight, pop pop pop, pockets swolled up
Say what, say what, just roll up
What's the hold up, unload and reload up

[Prevail:]
Hell fire, hell fire, hamburger hill shell fire
Kill a choir like a knife on the front line
Private live riot stage show, first burn, flame throw
Overthrow, take over, name known around the globe
King cobra, poisen slow fang, jungle overgrown
Wu-Tang, Ghostface, Alchemist killing the song
Top billing, feeling famous, chop heads, rock illa

[Madchild:]
Comic villain on painkillers watching Goodfellas
Dancing in the dungeon all by myself
I say I think I'm going crazy, that's a cry for help
My phone don't ring but get sexy text messages
Gun under my couch got the bitches mind wrestling
Me I'm just chilling with killers at my disposal
I'm fulfilling you will accept my proposal
Put another dime in the jukebox, I love rock and roll
Bulletproof vest, pop, lock and load

[Chorus x2]

[The Alchemist:]
Rap zombie I'm controlled by powers beyond me
I go from the drum machines straight to the dvd
Ti the hardrive, to the G5, to the computer screen
To the lab, through the speakers to the pens and the pad
To the science, to the math, to the vocab
Straight to the vocal booth, to the mic, back to that old rap
Through the speakers to the place where your heart and your soul at
Drop out the drums, rough mix, straight to the work draft
Bounce the track to disc format and then burn that
To the cd, we take it to the truck where the systems at
Make sure the bass hit like a thunderclap
Then I double back to the lab fast just like I was running laps
I freeze, back to the digi d to an MP3
Through the internet freeway, straight to the dj
Straight to the radio, constant airplay
I gotta keep true to my plate
So I'm moving that

[Chorus x2]