Letra de Daytona 500 - Ghostface Killah

(Feat. Force MD’s, Cappadonna, Raekwon)

Alias Artístico: Pretty Toney, Ghostdeini, Dennis David Coles, Dennis D. Coles, Dennis Coles, Ghostface Killer, Ghostface, Ghostface Killa

INFORMACIÓN DEL SENCILLO:

"Daytona 500" es una canción interpretada por Ghostface Killah, Force MD’s, Cappadonna y Raekwon, publicada en el álbum Ironman

Fecha de lanzamiento: 29 de octubre del año 1996. 

Daytona 500 Lyrics


We are the G-O-D's

And we came to rock the spot like Iron Man Starks

They be the illest emcees in the world today

Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A

So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear

Light your blunts and down your beers

'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killa Beez

"From where we at to my man's cell

From where we at—"


Say peace to cats who rock MAC Knowledge-Knowledges

Street astrologists, light up the mic, God, acknowledge this

Fly joints that carry two points, Corolla Motorola holder

Play it, God, E-pack over the shoulder

Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise

Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives

Repel all fakes like reflectors

He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career

We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna

Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo

And jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break

Break down an eighth and then wait, drop it like Dre

Thugs they be booin' and screwin', we canoein'

Claim they doin' the same shit we doin' — fuck the union!

It's the same style, RZA train, aboard, jump the turnstile

On the Isle, he tried to challenge God for the new Bal's

Especially that, aluminum bat in the Ac'

Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day — it pays, Black!

The MAC-10 flex, wipe cats like Windex

Index finger be sore bustin' these fly scripts

The Wally kid count crazily, grands revive lands

Layin' with my bitches and my mans in Lex Lands

We losin' 'em, jet to the stash in Now Jerusalem

Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em

Low-pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar

Roll with the Older God, build with the Sun, Moon and Star


All you's MCs start realizin'

That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'

The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest

But if your skills are weak, you better step behind us

"Ghostface — Ghosface Killah!""


Mercury raps is roughed, then god just shown like taps

Red and white Wallys that match, bend my baseball hat

Doin' forever shit like pissin' out the window on turnpikes

Robbin' niggas for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes

Voice be mellow like Vaughn Harper, Radio Barber

Murder sleep-away camp, the fly lady champ

The arsonist who burn with his pen regardless

Slayin' all these earthlings and fake foreigners

In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings

Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene

The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon

Blonde heads inscriptions with three sixes in

Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive

I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph

Zoom in like binoculars — the rap blacksmith

Money's Rolex was rockless, Chef ragtop is spotless

I'm Iron Man, no die-cast metal, I'm steel-alloy

True identity hidden inside secret tabloids

Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes

The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes

Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli'in'

Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians


"Rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell

From where we at to my man's cell"

All you's MC's start realizin'

That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'

The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest

But if your skills are weak, you better step behind us

"Cappa-Cappa-Cappa-Cappachino"


Give me the fifty thou', small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills

My beer spills, what up, Lils? Murder one, dun

Killer Bee stung, guess who back home, son?

My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon

Cristal bottles, cages of boom, Papi wardrobe

The mad-hatter big dick style, beware goons

Smuggle balloons, Lorna Doones in fat pussy wounds

Let the gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills

Top-secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it

Jiggy style of rap and watchin' knock our slang, sweep it

Out-of-order tape recorder can't record my slaughter

Spoil the rotten, Donna, too good to be forgotten

High top notch, borderline rhymes is Hancocked

'96, my ill sound clash is still hot

Get yourself shot!


All you's MC's start realizin'

That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'

The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest

But if your skills are weak, you better step behind us



Calificar Canción

VOTOS

¿Cuándo salió "Daytona 500" de Ghostface Killah?
29 de octubre del año 1996


¿En qué álbum está "Daytona 500" de Ghostface Killah?
Ironman



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Scar Tissue feat. Nas

Uh, bottles of Sangria, Monsters jumpin' out of trucks like a concierge, Pasta, prawns over lobsters, oysters, diamond chips, Smuggled all of the fish in a cold boxers, Tractor trailers, old drug dealers, Got me feeling like Gotti the way they bug the ceilings, One rogue came in to box my appearance…

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What up, boo?, I've been missing you, And you lookin' good as hell, Have me out here fiending for your body, yo, But I know you got a new nigga, Every time I see him, he got his face all screwed up, You better tell him he better fix his face, 'Fore I fix it for him, That's my word on everything, You…

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