Meteor Hammer Lyrics - Legendary Weapons - Wu-tang Clan

[Ghostface Killah] 

I don't touch that swine 

I want that unnecessary beef 

You smoke garbage buds 

We smoke tons of keef 

Fishing, looking for that big-mouth bass 

And flashing, jack your whole stash 

In fashion, keep my goons lined 

In an orderly fashion 

It's glossy with 500 horsies in the Benz 

Tinted out to spend the night 

You ain't got angel funds is low, stack 

Your bitch been ho-jacked 

Still scoop her up, bring her home 

And blow that, cause Ghost be mostly 

Looking pretty toasty 

Front row at Mayweather vs. Mosley 

With a Bin Laden bottle 

A Brazillian model 

Got the paparazzi jumping 

Like they hit the Lotto 

Party hard, like I"m fresh 

Out of the cages 

I rages like Charlie Sheen, I'm vacant 

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[Verse 2] 

You drop your pants at your ankles 

At the urinal at a ballgame 

I'm on the stool getting brain 

From a tall dame, cause I'm 5'8" 

Shorty like 6'2" 

Feed her coke, locked jaw 

Like a pitbull. I was born to rep 

You f-cking with a hornet's nest 

Old shooters in the corner like? 

Young boys that be handling the rock 

Chris Paul dish off, hammer in the sock 

Gold flakes in the Gold Schlager 

The ammo green XJ12, you know the old Jaguar 

Got the burch wood lacing the interior 

Poppy bagels getting flavored out in Syria 

Only the Fonz, best laced plates 

Cheese that reach maturity, dick sucks from Shannon Doherty 

Take your temperature anally and orally 

Make a batch of home drizzle royally with oil 

Photos 

[Verse 3 - Termanology] 

Hopping out the Rolly Royce 

Rolls Gold nouveau 

Diamond-studded shoes, so 

Flyest nigga you know 

Puerto Rican version of Scarface 

F-ck with the God's say 

Disrespect, piss in your broad's face 

Chains stay chunky like Oprah's belly 

Got the purple and the brown: 

Peanut butter and jelly 

When I step up in the spot with the rock 

You'll see the popular pop rappers 

Go in their pocket and pull out their wallet 

When I click-clack, now get up on the ground 

Cause I Onyx, Pete Rock, Chuck D shut em down 

You know Term, I'm the kid with the 'preme beats 

Butter Pecan J Lo, kid with the mean cheeks 

Boobies on my gold fronts, iced out note book 

Making volcanos in the kitchen when the coke cook 

I rode around with all kinds of thugs 

High on drugs, pissing out tiger blood