Hell's Wind Staff / Killah Hills 10304 - GZA

RZA: Yes the good life, you know

GZA: What the fuck is that, Hells Angels?

MK: Ahh Mr. Bobby Steels, Tony Starks on the line one for Mr. Bobby Steels

RZA: Steels over here, Steels over here

Peace, Starks what’s going on baby?

Yeah everything is lovely over here

Yeah Maximillion didn’t show up yet

I’m over here with Noodles and I got Lucky Hands with me

GZA: You got soul, R&B, classics?

All that shit right?

RZA: Yeah, Greco is right in front of me right now

Greco is standing right here

Yeah he has a briefcase;

oh, OK, OK I got you

Aight thanks

DK: Bobby Steels

RZA: Mr. Greco, good to see you good to see you good to see you

DK: A pleasure

RZA: So is everything OK, is everything working as we planned?

DK: Everything is working out, very nicely

Do you have the cash, twenty-thousand dollars?

RZA: Do we have the cash?

We don’t have to talk that, hey hey

GZA: Get the fuck outta here with that Hells Angels bullshit!

RZA: We got the cash

You know Cash Rules Everything Around this Motherfucker

Uhm, let me ask you…

GZA: The fuck outta here!

DK: Do you have the full amount?

Twenty thousand as we agreed upon?

GZA: Fucking Hells bastards

RZA: Let me ask you a question Mr. Greco…

Do you know a a Don Rodriguez?

DK: I know no such person

RZA: Don Rodriguez from the Bronx?

Don Rodriguez?

DK: I don’t know who you’re talking about

RZA: I think you do know him cause your fucking friend Don is down at

One-Twenty Precinct right now singing his fucking ass like a fucking bird

The fucking guys is coming

DK: Do you believe him?

Life of a drug dealer

Killah hills 10 304

Restaurant’s on a stakeout, so order the food to take out

Chaos outside of Sparks Steak House

Maintain the power, I feel the deal’s gone sour

Nigga missed a wedding, late a fucking half-hour

And his man who bought land from Tony Starks

While he was contracting bricklaying jobs in city parks

He’s a loan shark, interest raise a grand to a finger

In the garment district, got it sewn like Singers

'Cause all that talk blasphemy, this kid after me

For the heist, in a Burlington coat factory

Fuck it, he turned state’s on my nigga, Castro, this copilot

Who used to drop rice sacks of blow

On this remote area we label Dead Man’s Island

Two hundred miles South from Thailand

Right off the docks, I got luxurious, custom-made yachts

Burial plots, for my niggas hit with fatal shots

There’s no need for us to spray up the scene

I use less men, more powerful shit for my team

Like my man, Muhammad, from Afghanistan, grew up in Iran

The nigga runs a neighborhood newsstand

A wild Middle Eastern—bomb specialist

Initiated at eleven to be a terrorist

He set bombs in bottles of champagne

And when niggas popped the cork—niggas lost half they brains

Like this ex-worker, tried to smuggle a half-a-key

In his left leg, even underwent surgery

They say his pirate limp gave him away

As the feds rushed him, coming through U.S. Customs

Now look whose on the witness stand, singing, a well known soprano

A smash hit from Sammy Gravano

Here’s the plan minimum for the hit, two hundred grand

Half time at the game, blasting niggas out the stands

The sharp-shooters hit the prosecutor, judges are sent

Photographs of they wives taking baths

Along with briefcase filled with one point five—that's the bribe

Take it or commit suicide

First rule—anyone who schemes on the gold in Syria

I want they small intestines ripped from they interior

I got a price for those jewels, ship 'em freight cargo

Don’t forget to launder the cream through Wells Fargo

Reconstruct those processing plants for the call of Costa Rica

Four hundred barrels of ether

Two hundred pounds of reefer, and fifty immigrants with fake Visas

Life of a drug dealer

Killah hills 10 304

The saga continues