Batman Robin by True Master Lyrics
[Intro: Raekwon]
Yeah; yo shorty, move man
You know you ain't supposed to be over here, for real
Don't make us come and get you, man
Word up, man; tell your brother, man
That nigga better come around, man
Be good, man, we ain't sweatin' that little bit of money
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Flooded the lobby with the big nickels
Playin' my square; talk halves only; bitch, eat a pickle
I'm melted up with Guess jeans, Champion sweat hood on
Philadelphy hat; two [?] blings
The Aston is dynamite red
Double-pipin' with the wrist lightning white
I shit on the hoodlings
All we hold is pedico and Eagles, Diesel weed
This time, I'm a shit rhymin' for kilos, yo
Who dare wan' test us? I flip the accent like Jamaicans
Kid, one stare, we shot your peoples
I'm always Bally'd up
Nigga, you want me? Yeah, we both street
I'm under the building, all in me, Yoshi
Bugged out, Bugs-Bunny-money niggas
Plus my hands is licensed; that's right, shoot up some dummies
Dare niggas; it's gon' be hell up in everywhere, when we find you
Plus we chopped off your mother hands..
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
And packaged it up, and then mailed it to your brother's house
We want that coke, nigga, every last fuckin' ounce
You fuckin' with the wrong team; I'll blow meat off your shoulders
Got more than just thugs, I pack heat in my Crown holders
Louie Vuitton Wallos, keep a ox in the gummy sole
Chain so big, nigga, it look like dummy gold
You funny, though; fuckin' with some savage my niggas
That'll kill when it comes to six O's in the figure
Gun clappin', have 'em ready to bust they triggers
You's a goner, gonna find you slumped in the river
With a Cuban Link purple tape stuck in your face
I'm a ghost, choked out, no prints to trace
No leads in the case, got a secret identity
Throw loose change in the game, son, peep the documentary
I know ya'll motherfuckers like the back of my hand
Fuck around with big Ton' and get stomped by the Clan, asshole!
Yeah; yo shorty, move man
You know you ain't supposed to be over here, for real
Don't make us come and get you, man
Word up, man; tell your brother, man
That nigga better come around, man
Be good, man, we ain't sweatin' that little bit of money
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Flooded the lobby with the big nickels
Playin' my square; talk halves only; bitch, eat a pickle
I'm melted up with Guess jeans, Champion sweat hood on
Philadelphy hat; two [?] blings
The Aston is dynamite red
Double-pipin' with the wrist lightning white
I shit on the hoodlings
All we hold is pedico and Eagles, Diesel weed
This time, I'm a shit rhymin' for kilos, yo
Who dare wan' test us? I flip the accent like Jamaicans
Kid, one stare, we shot your peoples
I'm always Bally'd up
Nigga, you want me? Yeah, we both street
I'm under the building, all in me, Yoshi
Bugged out, Bugs-Bunny-money niggas
Plus my hands is licensed; that's right, shoot up some dummies
Dare niggas; it's gon' be hell up in everywhere, when we find you
Plus we chopped off your mother hands..
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
And packaged it up, and then mailed it to your brother's house
We want that coke, nigga, every last fuckin' ounce
You fuckin' with the wrong team; I'll blow meat off your shoulders
Got more than just thugs, I pack heat in my Crown holders
Louie Vuitton Wallos, keep a ox in the gummy sole
Chain so big, nigga, it look like dummy gold
You funny, though; fuckin' with some savage my niggas
That'll kill when it comes to six O's in the figure
Gun clappin', have 'em ready to bust they triggers
You's a goner, gonna find you slumped in the river
With a Cuban Link purple tape stuck in your face
I'm a ghost, choked out, no prints to trace
No leads in the case, got a secret identity
Throw loose change in the game, son, peep the documentary
I know ya'll motherfuckers like the back of my hand
Fuck around with big Ton' and get stomped by the Clan, asshole!