The Worst Lyrics by Onyx

The Worst Lyrics


    Wu-tang, wu-tang, onyx, onyx (x3)

    [raekwon]
    Eh, yo
    Staircases to stage now, major waves tanktop
    Nautica, flippin your daughter 30 ways
    Yeah, who want mine, bent outta shape one time
    Play em all starin at your beautiful sunshine
    Watch my shit shit, niggaz in the back, wigs lit
    You know the stats god, niggaz in the back, backs lit
    War drug raps, thug hats and mobb hats
    Spit on that cat, this yellow love, nigga fuckin with a rich cat
    My shit now 5 feet 6, with a crisp hat
    Plus this throwin now on 30 bricks, niggaz is with that
    Yo, fedrados rock my man, yo
    300 thousand dollars in a bottle, bitch mad as hollow
    My techinique, roller in the road, gold league
    You know the code read, suitcase money, stole heat
    Rock madby's stole 100 dollar bags, though
    That nigga grabbed me, gamin himself like milton bradley

    [fredro starr, (x-1)]
    Yo, this semi-automatic, glock this and lock this
    Heat spots can knock it, it's so hot chicks is topless
    Rims are spotless, chrome rims spin obnoxtious
    You knock this, bust a shot
    Don't miss, you better knock this
    (x-1 while out and watch this
    Til your eyes turn red with blotches
    Eatin scraps out the garbage
    Unload a cartridge and bust a cap
    X could never trust a cat, onyx is as hot as it gets
    Bitches fuckin for free, is outta the quest
    Blow blood outta your flesh, your body outta your vest)
    I cross the heat from across the street
    Fly you up off your feet, you die leaving short but sweet
    Street crime, time is money, nigga don't waist mine
    Dispose my 9, throwin your shine, your froze in time
    Lookin to death, holdin your breath, laided out
    On the dance floor, blood and moet, i'm blowin your set
    Trick 20 g's, don't sweat, your goin to death
    I'm goin for broke, i'm blowin out smoke, your catchin strokes
    (wu-tang and bald head, swis foreheads, leavin you all red
    X million, fully be on illest, your realest form, bringin the storm
    For seein you gone, nothin keepin my calm, but heat in my palm
    Sleepin i'm gone, you see what i'm on
    Keepin outta the dark, scatter your parts
    From here to battery parts)

    Chorus: [odb {sampled from "protect ya neck"}]
    First things first man, your fuckin with the worst (x3)
    You can't slam, so let me get fooled on a man

    [suave]
    Still master graph, after cash graphed, get staffed
    Splash your class, mash your staff
    What, nigga get smacked, you ain't worth a punch
    Hurt your bunch, get mercked your front
    In the wrong certain punk, mack clever niggaz
    Def wrecker, catch on a delo with mecca and etcha-sketcha
    Shakin, erase, vacatin your space, breakin your face
    Twist you, and won't miss you, official master killer bee
    Full blast, get off, smash, pull fast
    For your stash, long as the war last, put up in your ass
    Tryin to count more math, bringin the hardcore rap

    [killa sin]
    We be the mainstream, supreme rhyme, top of the line
    Cuisine feens, #1 love for thugs queens sceamin on cream
    My whole team love e-cup bras and mobb cars
    Killa sin known for makin niggaz reach for the stars
    This terrorist, lyricist in the mist of the abyss
    Canibus, evangelist, i impulse with metal fists
    Wu build like construction and bang like precusion
    On the planet battery, backs combustin, malfunction, what

    Chorus x2

    [method man, (sticky fingaz)]
    (holy shit, who the fuck is that)
    It's john, john (sticky fingaz, kid, you got my back)
    I got your back cousin (i got the mac cousin)
    And when them niggaz start jumpin, bust back cousin
    (because it's the new year, time for some new shit
    Nowadays rappers dyin over music)
    Dead on arrival, we raised in the ghetto singin songs
    For survival, duckin homicidal, you rival
    (yeah, onyx, wu-tang on tracks we gang bang, chiti bang bang)
    Chiti chiti bang bang, hot nicks spit flame
    Lava pump through my vains, caught in the zone
    Home on the range
    (eh, yo you ready for the ferocious, atrocious
    We go that supercalfragilisticexbealli...) dose shit
    (8-ball in the corner pocket)
    We snatch wallets off the white college
    The big apple forever rotten
    Now when it comes to hard target hot nicks
    (so what the bullet clot)
    Pop shit, we due to knowledge, to sharp niggas, once bitten
    Major swingers, heavy hittin, poly your kitten, throw up your mitten
    Stop bitchin, no slippin, no pot to piss in
    Them meltin pots boilin hot now in mel's kitchen
    (yo, sticky fingaz, one of the illest mother fuckers
    My moms don't raise no suckers, i slap rappers
    Turn em in to singers, touch something of mine and you'll have 9 fingers)
    Enough said, let's make whole fuckin town read
    (and rip their whole crew to a shread
    I got cold blood) hold your club (i hold blood) show no love
    (so bug) shoot your whole club (and shoot up the whole club)
    We throw slugs (you ain't no thug
    I earn every god damn penny that i got
    Son, i roll with a shotgun in the convertible
    I wish a nigga with wood, would try to fuckin
    Jack me, i'll murder you)

    Chorus

    Wu-tang, wu-tang, onyx, onyx (x2)

SEARCH LYRICS