The Whistle Lyrics by RZA

The Whistle Lyrics

    [Intro: RZA]
    *whistling*
    *beat kicks in*
    Di-Di-Di-Di-Di-Digital

    [RZA]
    Yo, I beat the case, now I face the acquittal
    You nizzles try to belittle, but ya'll lest in spittle
    From a baby's lip, the digi made me flip
    Plus they paid me chips, just to spray the clip
    And empty out on you, in sync like the SMPTE output on the MPC 2002
    We be housin' crews, plus we housin' fools
    In abandoned apartments with a thousand tools
    Crazy shootin' dudes buck off the beat
    Brainless boutless fools who be stuck off the leaf
    Two guns in their hands yellin' "Fuck the police!"
    On the weekend get drunk and they fuck with the niece
    Of the precint chief, she got the tattoo
    On her breast that's shaped like The W
    Go 'head snatch the guns, son, I'll cover you
    And if they get past me we got another two, yeah...

    [Chorus: RZA & Prodigal Sunn]
    We smoke those blunts the size of bats
    We got those gats as long as ax
    We snatch that cheese right off the trap
    We put those Beez all on your map

    [Prodigal Sunn]
    I shoot the fair one, I dare ya'll run through New York City
    Or any city or place, my face, royal taste, pace myself
    Ace my health, great with wealth
    Undetected like the wings of a Stealth, I move for self
    Or any man, woman or child that I call fam
    That's the way I am, word to Glock, my sister Pam
    Son, lived through the terror of the World Trade blues
    Nine o'clock news, abused the mind of many fools
    Braves and jewels, made my moves, paid my dues
    From the School of Intelligence, I stayed benevolent
    Most high, magnify, multiply, as I add to the Kings of Kings
    We never die, built my name, sustained like blood
    Flow through the veins divine sign
    Dine with wine forever sunshine

    [Chorus]

    [RZA]
    We smoke...

    [Masta Killa]
    From the Vil to Brazil, live on your C-SPAN radio band
    Explicit, dice kiss it, pour a little liquor
    Golden imported from Cuba, Miss Aruba
    Sexy as Asia, met her up in Mecca
    Getting up in Just Cipher, hit it on the first date
    Plotted my escape, twelve hours shift at the gate
    How can you beat a G a week in '88?
    Trips to the Pocono Lodge, the fresh Izod
    Mama shouldn't work so hard to pay the landlord
    A grand in your birthday card, times is hard
    The gun hammer click, when the pigs blitz
    We scramble like Vick, automatic six plus one to the head
    Yo, the east so hot, it's red, but that's home
    And my Glock still burn your skin to the bone
    Sonny Corleone don't discuss it on the phone

    [Chorus to end]

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