Possibly has the worst voice I've ever heard.
That is all.
He is ok, Evry1 makes him out to be better than he is
His lyrics are good.
I was just listening to 'Blue Sky and Black Death' and I don't guess I realized how horrible his voice was.
Yeh i no what you meen he was good on Holocaust (Silkworm)
i dont hear from him or his music much but yeah that verse on Silkworm was fucking crazy (peep the sig lol)
You either love him or hate him. The first track I heard from his albums were 'America', and I was like wtf? Dude escaped from the mental intitution. Now I love him tho. Give his albums some listening. U gotta know what ur dealing with.
you can't deny what he did on the second killarmy album
his two albums are ill lyrical exhibitions. his work on wu tracks is spectacular. i havent been as impressed with his recent work though.
Peep Bluntz, Martinez, Girlz and Gunz from the Sting. Hes Fucking AMAZING. Cop his album comes out SEP 5.
Ever since i heard him on The Swarm i liked him, then i saw him on Bobby Digital, his flow is or used to be amazing, very unique and different from everybody else in hip hop.
I'll say fuck Nas with his lyricism... he's a baby compared with holocaust/warcloud whatever you call him. For those who don't like the lyrics, or that don't understand them, do the knowledge, his got some of the illest verses i heard since ever...
Vampire Kung-Fu... this song has lyricism printed all over
That would be a conversation to have face to face...
I can't explain myself very well by writing...
U really 16 years old? If you are, that explains why don't understand Warcloud so well... His verses are based on nostalgic shit most of the time...
This is one of my favorite verses from him from Bluntz, martiniz Girlz and Gunz
(Yo) my brain sprouts branches blossoming tragic thoughts
Takes bully lyrics lunch money, pistols or microphone
Welcome to L.A. battle the unexplained
Scarecrows and apples meet Mr. Constrictus
Concrete knuckles and scuffles, I waste groups
Give 'em lumps the size of footballs, bricks and grapefruit
Make soup, blueberry while dining with classic monsters
Better check my sponsor chop before you can answer
Brothers in the Contra, bullet holes in the stop sign
Gods in the neighborhood, pistol in the sunset
Lyrics, the bitch pressed dump trucks with one thrust
Faster than sound, light, or speed that your gun busts
Among us, west coast wreck hopes, infect dope
Whining 'cause your last Holocaust cassette broke
The hunchback tic-tac heads come to get you
Nine-hundred and forty-three missiles made of crystal
Light a match to those, the crowd put all their lighters up
Stomp through the graveyard in the rain, the architect
Bricks in the mud, the cold weather is scorchin
For boxcar children and orphans, wrote a portrait
Chewing on cactus, rappers better practice
Slimey like a catfish, dollers in the mattress
A hand-carved pipe from Baton Rouge to Cherokee
Grand-high count, feed Macadamias to parakeets
French lemonade, skeletons on the highway
Clove, gets rowdy I'll box my way out
Poor righteous teacher, devils better fear us
Or my pistol splatter your brains accross the mirrors
Bluntz, martinez, girls, and gunz (gunz)
Gut 'em like a fish, the man who bled Marbles
Bloody Mr. Fixit, holocaust and guns
Stumbled through the doorway wearing my evening chains
Real as the hallway red and blue Crayolas
Now leaving stains, architect from Cali
Rumble through the mist covered valleys, dirty alleys
Crumbs in your suitcase, ice fishing with pelicans
Big 'ole tackling skeleton, you're irrelevant
Riding jeweled elephants, California horizon
Track mud through the kitchen, murder henchmen
Strange man's pockets, cigarettes and candy
Walk with a limp, chance of a lifetime
Bandits want cyborg crank, tic-tac
Blow holes through emcees, size of bowling balls
Briefcase man chant, my flavor's building
Set a fishbowl full of jelly beans out for the neighbor's children
Two-fisted brawler, good times in the sunlight
Tracked him one night, you call and cause a gunfight
Holo-holocaust is sleepy, holdin microphones
4 dead men in the alley, the butcher
Shirts with the blossoms, west coast the gentlemen
Holding the pistol, smoke blunts for hours
To understand the language of flowers
Gritty mugshot, missed her arms and legs, drool bullets
Bedtime time to turn in but into what?
A well set table, third rock from the sun
Dead men hung, Cadillacs and dinosaurs
Hot peanuts and fireworks, the holocaust
|All times are GMT -5. The time now is 02:53 AM.|
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.4
Copyright ©2000 - 2016, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Copyright ©2000 - 2015 The Wu-Tang Corp. & shift-one