Mr. Sandman

RZARZA 

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RZA

Robert Fitzgerald Diggs (born July 5, 1969), better known by his stage name Rza ( /ˈrɪzə/ RIZ-ə; usually styled RZA), is an American Grammy-winning music producer, multi-instrumentalist, author, emcee, and occasional actor, director, and screenwriter. A prominent figure in hip hop, Rza is the de facto leader of the Wu-Tang Clan. He has produced almost all of Wu-Tang Clan's albums as well as many Wu-Tang solo and affiliate projects. He has also released solo albums under the alter-ego Bobby Digital, along with executive producing credits for side projects. In addition to the Wu-Tang Clan and his solo releases, Rza was also a founding member of the horrorcore Hip Hop group Gravediggaz where he used the name The Rzarector. Furthermore, he has acted in several mo… more »

Year:

1994

3:38

154 Views

Playlists:

#2

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Lyrical shots from the Glock
Bust bullet holes on the charts, I want the number one spot
What's the science? I'm a giant
New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence
Silence of the Lambs, o-ccured when I slammed in
Program the jams, to be fat as Ralph Kramden
Others come with shit, as silly as Art Carney
But my Tetley triplizes, more kids than Barney
Remedy for stress is three bags of sess
A day at my rest, playing chess, yes
My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn
When you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then
I get vexed, layin phat trax on Ampex
Puffin skunk, gettin drunk off of Triple X
Violent time, I got more love than valentines
The violent mind, I blast with a silent nine

My hazardous thoughts to cut the mic's life support short
Brains get stained like tablecloths when I let off
Powerful, poetry pushed past the point of no return
Leaving mics with third-degree burns
Let me at 'em, I grip your style like a spasm
Drag 'em through the mud then I bag em
We're screaming hardcore, hip-hop drips out my pores
And I be raw, for four score plus seven more
I strike like a bowling ball, holding y'all hostage
Like jail, electrifying like the third rail
Beats are smashed with paragraphs of ruckus
Wu-Tang! (Clan ain't nuttin ta f*ck wit)

Hot time, summer in the city
My people represent, get busy
The heat-seeker, on a mission from hell's kitchen
I gets in where I fits in for head-touchin, listen
Enemy, is the industry got me flippin
I don't give a f*ck tell that bitch and a nigga
I'm killin, snipin, catchin murder cases
Desert Stormin', I be searchin for oasis
As I run a mile with a racist
Pullin, swords, hit the Billboard with a bullet
Peace to the number seven
Everybody else get the four nine three eleven

(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
I don't know what's going on if you can take us there

Yo, watch me bang the headpiece there's no survival
My flow lights up the block like a homicidal
Murder, underground beef for the burger
P.L.O., criminal thoughts you never heard of
I switch, the city never sleeps, life's a bitch
I shit, runnin through bitches like Emmitt Smith
Caution, niggas best to be careful crossin
The street, before they end up layin in a coffin
Don't sleep, niggas tend to forget, however
Peep this — my nigga Kase lives forever

What evil lurks in the heart of men?
It be the shadow, street-life, flowin again
I had a plot, scheme, I knew for sure
Only one kick would knock the hinges off the door
The dread tried to jet, Sabrina at his neck
Thirteen pounds on the table plus a tec
Just when I said, "Where the f*ck's the cream?"
Another dread came out the kitchen with the M-16
He tried to cock it, blast three shots like rockets
Crushed his collarbone, ripped his arm out the socket
My move for the table was swift, I got my hostage
(The nigga tried to stab you God!) but I dodged it
Niggas said, "Carlton you'se a ill motherfucker"
Cause I made it look like they both killed each other
And I'm out

(Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)

You know what I'm saying? (Tical)

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