Popa Wu How it Goes lyrics

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yeah, yeah, La the Darkman
Eighth wonder, top of the world, nigga
Yeah, sing sing, peach playin' ass niggas
Killas, yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh, huh, yeah

In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And range rovs, rockin' jewels, artica folds
Two thousand, it's still throw holes in clothes

You niggas lame, real game, recognize game
Some get hed, my dick long, I get brain
When I was broke, smoke weed on the train
Now puff in the GS4, dead float like a plane

Platinum watch and platinum chain
Four pound plastic clock, how dogs get trained
Jackets get stained, shirts get stained, jewels get stained
By a murderer, squeazin' the flame, screamin' for fame

Tombstones engrave ya name at ya funeral in rain
Old folks say cracks the blame, while they act insane
And pack the game, cock and aim, blow out ya brain
Jump in the range, back to the grain, it's Wu-Tang

Ain't shit change but gettin' rich, bitch to bitch
Whips to switch, new outfits for new out hits
I'm raw like no condom, fuckin' a whore
On some real shit, takin' ya fagots to war

Back in S O's, how we smack on dress holds
At The Tunnel, givin' buck fifty in bundles
It's two thousand, no more wowzin', no more browsin'
My killas blood thirsty outta project housing

The body kid, shorty kids, red dotted kids
My crew from BK, wild out like Gotti Kid
Fuck Guliani bids, and consequences
I'm hoppin' fences, jumped them fences

D.T.'s missin' in these trenches
I wear all black, black gats
Only thing white on me, dunn, is my teeth and my crack
My money's green, my weed's real green, my Lex is green

I won't wait, on a mic or a triple beam
My heart like Spike Lee tell me, "Do the right thing"

Nowadays that mean pullin' the thing to take cream
Pussy, I'm real, from Bronx ville to Brownsville
Queens, to Manhattan, L.I. back to Staten, I murder you

In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And range rovs, rockin' jewels, artica folds
Two thousand, it's still throw holes in clothes

In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And range rovs, rockin' jewels, artica folds
Two thousand, it's still throw holes in clothes

For the new millennium, I wanna be pushin' a new millennium
With bricks in the stash for safety, about ten of them
My bitches mad feminine, suckin' dick like Kim and 'em
Take 'em to the condo, constantly bended them

I'm rusty for fagot niggas that wanna bust me
Trust me, I only run with wolves, you can't touch me
Plus me, knowledge I got, just can't explain
Street value, worth fifty pounds of cocaine

I reign like a bullet comin' from John Wayne
Black male, society failed to obtain
I got big balls, big brains, big trucks, big chains
My wounds paint a picture, the cassette's the frame

I'm iller than one nigga tryin' to rob a whole train
Look at America thru the eyes of Saddam Hussein
If a slut wanna fuck, me and my niggas weren't trainin'
It's two thousand but in the hood, shit's the same, nigga

In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And range rovs, rockin' jewels, artica folds
Two thousand, it's still throw holes in clothes

In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes
Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes
And range rovs, rockin' jewels, artica folds
Two thousand, it's still throw holes in clothes

La the dark man
Trapacanti, the streets for real
Trapacanti, trapacanti, la trapacanti