The Drop Off

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:

2003

3:27

572 Views

Playlists:

#3

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Yo, yo, yo, yo Bobby
What up, what up? I can't really hear you
Aiyo, I left ten pounds in the trunk and I gave Sha' ten
Make sure he drops them shits off
I'm on my way back to Mexico, to pick up another hundred
(What up?) Can you hear me? can you hear me? (Uh-huh)
Yo make the drop off, don't forget man!

I got niggas on the block, block
Niggas with them gats, gats
Niggas on the strip, strip
Puffin' them packs, packs
To my workers that stays sharp like razors
Play my part and blaze it, we braveheart with paper
My niggaz got that Dutch, Dutch
Niggaz got that black, black
Niggaz got a bitch, bitch, head in they lap, lap
My team ain't wit' it, we dreamed and did it
Leaned and pivot, schemed for digits
Everything you seen, we lived it
Nigga front then we get at duke
Dick hard like statues go to hole like Shaq do
Cut you like a cantelope
Like Iverson the truth and the answer
I'm the poison and the antidote
Don't care if the bitch cute, we don't sex raw
We play the corners like the castles on a chess board
Up in the Lex 4, drinkin' a Beck's boy
Shoppin' in the best stores, I'm the nigga to check for

Want to spend our cheese, smoke all our weed
No tattoo on titties, sayin' F-are-E
And my nigga Crizzee baby, and my nigga Digi baby
Want to spend our cheese, smoke all our weed
No tattoo on titties, sayin' Bob Digi
Or ShaCrizzee baby, or Lil' Frizzee baby

Bobby stop!
Bobby *sirens* the cops is comin
(That shit is tight girl)
"Hey you!"
(F*ck that mothafucka, you know how I do)

Up in the drop-top Boxter headin' the opposite
Direction of the cop inside the chopper
I got the tall Grey Goose vodka
This bitch on my side, with no panties, finger pop her
Ten pounds of skunk up in the front trunk
Bird like hittin' a blunt, about to cum, and I'm pinchin' her cunt *girl moans*
Ninety miles per hour I'm like "F*ck these punks!"
It's the land of the free son, you only live once
You a smart motherfucker or stupid dunce?
Music blastin', she orgasm like a singer
Sweet, wet pussy got all over my fingers
Now I'm sniffin' my hand, all sippin' the plan
Got the pedal to the floor, goin' swift as I can
Hit the exit, chk-chk-chuh, make the left quick
Hit the garage and slip inside the Lexus
I got many whips, many clips, many chicks
And my dick's been sucked by many lips
Many tips, or many Vicks, many sticks
And love to f*ck with plenty chips

He got many whips, many clips, many chicks
And his dick's been sucked by many lips
Many tips, or many Vicks, many sticks
And love to f*ck with plenty chips

Want to spend our cheese, smoke all our weed
No tattoo on titties, sayin' F-are-E
And my nigga Crizzee baby, and my nigga Digi baby
Want to spend our cheese, smoke all our weed
No tattoo on titties, sayin' Bob Digi
Or ShaCrizzee baby, or Lil' Frizzee baby

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