Duck Seazon chords and lyrics - WU-TANG CLAN

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[Intro 1]
[Am]
[G#m]
[Am]
[G#m][G#m]

[Verse 1]
Yo, [Am]my
team be bellyaching hungry [Am]nig gas on the swarm again
Pirahna niggas bite dick,
yo Son, it's on again
[G#m]What up, he made a move, try to assist it
Listen kid yo, you was born to be
a pawn but I'm a bishop
[Am]Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical
How you figure god, what,
flow on the track, flip the obstacle
[G#m]Now my proposal rips the global
From California to courts,
it's over God so, taste the soul food
Re[Am]member baggy jeans,
the Timberlands in November
Shorty called me Santa in December
But [G#m]guess what,
my Wally's got messed up
Autograph pressed up what,
blessed enough to blow your rest up
[Am]We scrape that, Land O' Lake that
My dolo rapper get you sent back
Represent the gentlemens
who bent that
[G#m]Flash medallions like Italians,
la costra nostra
We movin through your hood like
we supposed ta, [Am]flexin'
Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement
So keep the bust the gun Boo
Like that bad ass bitch in
Dead Presidents
[G#m]Add on, the billboard sloan
Check it now, you get the gold dick award
It's like jail, and it's the sixth floor
[Am]Test me, floating in the S.E.,
now let's see
Half of y'all niggas built your vine
from my stress [G#m]tree
Faggots, homos, yo,
my flavor liver than adobo
Stay militant kid, twist ya like bolo
[Am]You fucking idiot,
playing with my Clan but you be fearin' it
Fake one, I'm guaranteed to
make you take [G#m]one
Please, y'all niggas
money's gettin' low
But could you come back though,
set up shop, and get the fat glow?
[Am]Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
So what the deal now, link up with us,
or put your shield [G#m]down
Faggot (bitch), you fuck around
punk (seven fifteen)
We battle for [G#m]cream nigga
You [Am]want a pound

[Verse 2]
crab? Nah
let his hand swing
I ought to punch a hole in his palm
with these pointy ass [G#m]rings
No more said,
knew your chump ass was dead
When I saw the four four reflecting
off your shiny forehead
[Am]It's Wu- Tang nigga,
ain't nuttin' changed nigga
Still shame on a nigga,
who tried to run game
Your [G#m]version of perversion,
fuckin bitches on Persian rugs
Washin niggas like detergent,
it's the surgeon
Slugs propels [Am]from Bobby
Steele's 12 gauge
Front page, "Daily Chronicle" reads
"Hell up in Gotham,
take heed and protect yo' seeds"
[G#m]You fall like autumn leaves,
you lack tranquility
In your rap utilities,
to fuck with the abilities
Race like a [Am]sperm cell to the ovary
Microphone post tone like
a rotary phone
Ancient poems and poetry,
[G#m]old sloans
Explosive head bullets,
black hooded
Timberland footed ninjas, who
full metal jacket clips
And know how [Am]to put it in you
Surrender your goods
and your merchandise
For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist
For your ice [G#m]and curtains
and vice
Come quietly,
Wu- Tang Clan rules society
Because of variety,
so maintain your [Am]high anxiety
And lead them to defy me, diary, ya Irie?
[G#m]I need 18 points for my next joint,
this high annointed king
To make a deal, I be the one to appoint
[Am]Steve Rifkind must have been sniffin'
To catch somethin so dope,
it left Monica Lynch pussy drippin'
[G#m]I fuck hundreds of bitches,
and split millions of dollars
And built with thousands of scholars
My life saga from the [Am]hill to the harbor
Legal kid brown in Nicaragua
Gave birth to MC's, thieves
and bank robbers
We drove [G#m]ex pensive whips
and took worldwide trips
And my dick's been sucked
by the finest [G#m]lips
[Am]Fancy delicatessens, and
the world's best refreshment
But none of the above compare
to the one- twenty lessons
Or [G#m]my queen and my seeds,
in the home that I rest in

[Verse 3]
Enter my zone get blown to 99 sections
[G#m]This rhyme h[Am]as no limitations,
this time there's no [Am]hesitation
Collecting minds at the door,
you [G#m]want it niggas it's y[G#m]ours
The flavors raw,
what the fuck you think I'm flow[G#m]ing for
It's rhyme and reason, bite the [Am]bullet
[Am]Niggas is [Am]foul and it's duck season
We at odds 'til we even motherfucker
[G#m]Bad asses, high times, lower classes
Taste mine, straight shots
in dirty [G#m]glasses
[Am]Bring it to him, room service,
under pressure
And mad nervy,
wavin guns at the [G#m]clergy
Ticallion, we ain't worried
Keep them sick niggas
seven- [G#m]thirty
Picture this, watch the birdy
[Am]These bastards is Ol an
[Am]d Dirty
With sharp pins that be stabbing you
Pins and needles, needles and pins
[G#m]Nuff said, dick in your mouth
like [G#m]Tempest [G#m]Bled'
As I race [G#m]track with thoroughbreds,
[G#m]duck in the feds
[Am]Yo, my

[Verse 4]
ice look fly up on
the keyboard son
Niggas ran up on me law,
praising what we do by the lord[G#m]s
That's right, exile the fake,
hit them niggas like [G#m]weight
Feed 'em food, let the fake evaporate
Recon[Am]struction, that's the whole science on my,
production
Y'all niggas guess who stuck son,
left his nut[G#m]s hungs
Switch, finger itch,
starin' at you like a bitch
Maybe y'all niggas snitched
[G#m]Youse [Am]a loner, Adidas shell top while I
Sip a Corona, read the Robb Report,
then bone her
[G#m]Buy you some jewels, here's some food
Not necessarily mean [E]to be [G#m]rude boo,
check out the ana[Am]loo
We in the mushrooms,
chased the high neck in the custom
Baggy jeans, thick ropes god,
sliding through custom[G#m]s
Chill, y'all niggas know what time it is
James [E]Bond Beamers behind
me [G#m]on Bacardi Limon
Check out the [Am]pitch like Nolan Ryan
He caught a slug for lyin'
Yeah you was lyin',
where's the cash, cryin'
Mili[G#m]tia, rollin' in position
Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian
Lex retali' back whistlin' fake fucks