Текст песни Warcloud - Sweeping Bullet Shells

[Intro: Holocaust]
Vodka in the toolbox
I have a billion eyes, but I live in darkness
I have a million ears, Wu-Tang
Paint the stone steps red

[Holocaust]
The Black Knight is alive and roaming through the hallways
Of the L.A. Museum, with his sword
Song without end, battle the damn spirit
Tropical lullabies, painting sky papers
Fighting in the rain, a brain, in a bird cage
Shoe maker dance, been rhyming since the third grade
Big bells ring, conquer all fears
The serpent licked the woman on the ears, carry spears
Tra-la-la, pistol in the bread box
Rats in the cuckoo clock, devils hung
A skeleton loading a gun, in a snowstorm
Creatures great and small, all gather
Evening in the garden, a song at dust
Here to test your trust, royal flush
Whisper to my left, some people want it
Over there is a tree with a rope that has your name in
March through the swamp, a book of picture riddles
Tum-ta-tum-tum, catch me if you can
Cut an M.C. into five, the best delivered
Be careful in the Volvo, piranhas infest the river

[Chorus 2X: Holocaust]
Wu-Tang Clan, warriors on the hillside
Mighty Warcloud, the dead flowers gloom
An old woman seized her sweeping broom
And swept all the bullet shells out of the room

[Holocaust]
Snatch your arms out the socket and stuff 'em in your back pokcet
I glow like a tree in the distance with persistance
Haters palm red, your suffering will be legendary
March scrolls on my back, deep as February
Hot like Caribbean fireworks, I feature
Nightmare creatures, dead men in the bleachers
The old woman seized her sweeping broom
And swept all the bullet shells out of the room
By then I crept out, quiet as mice
All wept with blood, still cold as nice
House on the hillside, skill, couldn't match it
Running down the old staircase, holding a hatchet
Shot for his shoulder, blew half of his face off
Renaissance carnival, screwball, was crackpot
MC's attack not, they in the wack spot
Brushing their teeth with rocks, while I flip it
Old is the gifted, warrior hieroglyphic
Last emperor, I swiped it while you missed it
Call him Warcloud, now carry the skeleton load
Break off your feet and throw it into the sunset

[Chorus 2X]

[Holocaust]
Old Holocaust is dead, flowers for sell
Green bottles of rifle on the wall
The taylor, who spoke to the man with his eye sown shut
Wu-Tang is the illest, nigga, what?
Beware of the stranger, roll up all through the mute two
Off to the woods, I smile before I shoot you
Flew over cuckoo, I went upstairs
Came to the mic like hungry grizzly bears
Straight out the slum, the fog city news
Drag an MC to his tomb, and sing the blues
Old tommy gun, dripper head and lead foot
Murder MC's from L.A. to Red Hook
Teeth of a saw, cutting through your ribcage
Deep in the dead of the night, drinking liquor
Came with the lady in the picture, spit a mixture
Ace up my sleeve, with Belgium elixir
Rhyme like an evening after firing range
Through the torn curtain I see the dead city
Bullets in the soup, I leap across roofs
During the course of my intellectual pursuit

[Chorus 3X]