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Mrs. Wades A Bitch Lyrics

I kinda know this old lady,
she is my health teacher,
she took my cell phone up,
then she took away my beeper,
she said I shouldn't have it,
and I should be learnin,
but there aint no need in knowin how bad her pussys burnin,
Mrs. Hutto is infected,
with yeast in her mouth,
now she gone be coughin biscuit for a week in a half,
she under mrs.wades desk,
kissin on her breast,
then lookin for the next girl they gonna moleste,
they lookin and a searchin,
winkin and a flirtin,
now they gonna get morgan and go up her shirt and,
do some things they shouldn't,
but Mrs. Wade knew she could't,
she knew it'd be wrong,
been then she didn't car and just got her freak on!
Mrs. Wade is pretty nasty,
her ass is old and ashy,
but listen at her voice when she scream it old and raspy,
but when i walked in I thought I was gonna be sick,
damn mrs wade you stupid wierd ass bitch!

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Mrs. Wades A Bitch Lyrics

I kinda know this old lady,

she is my health teacher,

she took my cell phone up,

then she took away my beeper,

she said I shouldn't have it,

and I should be learnin,

but there aint no need in knowin how bad her pussys burnin,

Mrs. Hutto is infected,

with yeast in her mouth,

now she gone be coughin biscuit for a week in a half,

she under mrs.wades desk,

kissin on her breast,

then lookin for the next girl they gonna moleste,

they lookin and a searchin,

winkin and a flirtin,

now they gonna get morgan and go up her shirt and,

do some things they shouldn't,

but Mrs. Wade knew she could't,

she knew it'd be wrong,

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Investigative Reports Lyrics

[here we go, come on]
[A, A battle was fought, in Brooklyn...]
[Hessian Soldiers killed 3,000 men; much of the fighting
took place in what is now Prospect Park in Greenwood cemetary,
as well as the Park Slope and Gowanas neighborhoods.]
[This was the first battle, of America.]

[Intro/Outro: U-God]
Rugged rhymsters, crooked crimesters
Dime droppers, Twenty-five-to-lifers
Backstabbers, low blowers
Illegal... cocaine growers
Starvation, profanity
Anxiety, brothers tryin me
Gun slingers, dead ringers

[Verse One: Raekwon the Chef]
Yo, my slang's out of this world
Mix collaboration man, little man and his girl
Way of life got me thinkin, plus I'm analyzin young
youths on roofs, you know, three time felony brutes
Roll together, tropical trees puff, whatever
Yo we could go run up on, kids for leathers
What drug? Faculties bubble ki's for G's
Cream flow like seven seas, hit chicks Guayanese
Word up, hold your head before you fall out
The morgue route, the devil want that
Let's get my niggaz locked all out
Change for better, that be my only vendetta
with life, feed your seed right, he's breathin indeed right
Chef, remarkable, sparkable, raps and tackable gats
Never get jacked, see ya then move black
Paradise trife, plush with much ice
Gettin nice, layin back, sleek all my life
Word up!

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