[{"id":20889175,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ghostface Killah…Shaolin’s Finest","duration":281.066667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ghostface Killah…Shaolin’s Finest\n  duration_ms: 281067\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":27077005,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.066667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281067\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":33287217,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Cappadonna,Ghostface Killah,Raekwon","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37] \n[00:59.92] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Cappadonna,Ghostface Killah,Raekwon\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":35828901,"name":"Daytona 500 (Album Version)","trackName":"Daytona 500 (Album Version)","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37] \n[00:59.92] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500 (Album Version)\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":4765718,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.10] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.89] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:18.69] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.07] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.36] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:59.84] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.54] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.95] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:07.62] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.68] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.28] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.90] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.35] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.20] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.67] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.17] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:26.78] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.68] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:32.04] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.11] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:36.84] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.20] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.82] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.14] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.64] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.35] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.61] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:53.77] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.59] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.17] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.59] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.17] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:06.35] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.88] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.95] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.43] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.62] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.78] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.47] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.15] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.46] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:38.25] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:39.85] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.40] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.06] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.41] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:49.97] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.63] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.08] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.42] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.65] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.23] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.61] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.17] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.87] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.26] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.62] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:21.87] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.22] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.09] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.23] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:41.42] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.38] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.09] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.60] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.22] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.63] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.02] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.40] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.99] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.67] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:05.76] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.55] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.71] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.47] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.01] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.42] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.05] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:33.81] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 1100\n  end_ms: 8890\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8890\n  end_ms: 18690\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 18690\n  end_ms: 27070\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27070\n  end_ms: 33360\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33360\n  end_ms: 59840\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59840\n  end_ms: 62540\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62540\n  end_ms: 64950\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64950\n  end_ms: 67620\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 67620\n  end_ms: 69680\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69680\n  end_ms: 72280\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72280\n  end_ms: 74900\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74900\n  end_ms: 77350\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77350\n  end_ms: 79200\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79200\n  end_ms: 81670\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81670\n  end_ms: 84170\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84170\n  end_ms: 86780\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86780\n  end_ms: 89680\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89680\n  end_ms: 92040\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 92040\n  end_ms: 94110\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94110\n  end_ms: 96840\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 96840\n  end_ms: 99200\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99200\n  end_ms: 101820\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101820\n  end_ms: 104140\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104140\n  end_ms: 106640\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106640\n  end_ms: 109350\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109350\n  end_ms: 111610\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111610\n  end_ms: 113770\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113770\n  end_ms: 116590\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116590\n  end_ms: 119170\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119170\n  end_ms: 121590\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121590\n  end_ms: 124170\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124170\n  end_ms: 126350\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 126350\n  end_ms: 131880\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131880\n  end_ms: 136950\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136950\n  end_ms: 142430\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142430\n  end_ms: 145620\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145620\n  end_ms: 147780\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147780\n  end_ms: 150470\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150470\n  end_ms: 153150\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153150\n  end_ms: 155460\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155460\n  end_ms: 158250\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 158250\n  end_ms: 159850\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 159850\n  end_ms: 162400\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162400\n  end_ms: 165060\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165060\n  end_ms: 167410\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167410\n  end_ms: 169970\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 169970\n  end_ms: 172630\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172630\n  end_ms: 175080\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175080\n  end_ms: 177420\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177420\n  end_ms: 179650\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179650\n  end_ms: 182230\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182230\n  end_ms: 184610\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184610\n  end_ms: 187170\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187170\n  end_ms: 189870\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189870\n  end_ms: 192260\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192260\n  end_ms: 194620\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194620\n  end_ms: 201870\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 201870\n  end_ms: 205220\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205220\n  end_ms: 210090\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210090\n  end_ms: 215230\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215230\n  end_ms: 221420\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 221420\n  end_ms: 224380\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224380\n  end_ms: 226090\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226090\n  end_ms: 228600\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228600\n  end_ms: 231220\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231220\n  end_ms: 233630\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233630\n  end_ms: 236020\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236020\n  end_ms: 238400\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238400\n  end_ms: 240990\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 240990\n  end_ms: 243670\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243670\n  end_ms: 245760\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 245760\n  end_ms: 248550\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248550\n  end_ms: 250710\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250710\n  end_ms: 253470\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253470\n  end_ms: 257010\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257010\n  end_ms: 260420\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260420\n  end_ms: 264050\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264050\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 273810\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 273810\n  end_ms: 278560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278560\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":13299966,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna","albumName":"Ghostface Killah…Shaolin’s Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37] \n[00:59.92] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna\n  album: Ghostface Killah…Shaolin’s Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":14748435,"name":"Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)","trackName":"Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37] \n[00:59.92] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":39125089,"name":"Daytona 500 (Album Version)","trackName":"Daytona 500 (Album Version)","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Camay / Daytona 500","duration":240.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07]We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76]Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06]Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41]An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64]'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37]\n[00:59.92]Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57]Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01]Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05]Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99]Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63]Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19]Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05]He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66]We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91]Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68]An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27]Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69]Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81]Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20]It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02]On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39]Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56]Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32]The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83]Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25]The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70]Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01]We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84]Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00]Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64]Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22]All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37]That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62]The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13]But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82]Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53]Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91]Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94]Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38]Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80]Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99]The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68]Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95]In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54]Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79]The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54]Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51]Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29]I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75]Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92]Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62]I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14]True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58]Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94]The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38]Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94]Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24]All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79]That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69]The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45]But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14]Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21]My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53]Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56]My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55]Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05]The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30]Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76]Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40]Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69]An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06]Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88]Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97]High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42]Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33]Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57]All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56]That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74]The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26]But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500 (Album Version)\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Camay / Daytona 500\n  duration_ms: 240000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":18236128,"name":"Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)","trackName":"Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)","artistName":"Ghostface Killah/Raekwon/Cappadonna","albumName":"Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\n\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.07] We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n[00:08.76] Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n[00:19.06] Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n[00:27.41] An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n[00:33.64] 'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n[00:41.37] \n[00:59.92] Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n[01:02.57] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:05.01] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:08.05] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.99] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.63] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:15.19] Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n[01:17.05] He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n[01:19.66] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.91] Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.68] An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n[01:27.27] Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.69] Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n[01:31.81] Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n[01:34.20] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n[01:37.02] On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:39.39] Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n[01:41.56] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.32] The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:46.83] Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n[01:49.25] The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n[01:51.70] Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n[01:54.01] We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n[01:56.84] Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n[01:59.00] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.64] Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n[02:04.22] All these MCs start realizin'\n[02:07.37] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[02:11.62] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[02:17.13] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:22.82] Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n[02:25.53] Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.91] Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.94] Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n[02:33.38] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:35.80] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.99] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.68] Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n[02:42.95] In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n[02:45.54] Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n[02:47.79] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.54] Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:52.51] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:55.29] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.75] Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.92] Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n[03:02.62] I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n[03:05.14] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.58] Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.94] The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n[03:12.38] Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n[03:14.94] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:19.24] All these MCs start realizin'\n[03:25.79] That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n[03:30.69] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[03:35.45] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[03:40.14] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:44.21] My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n[03:46.53] Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n[03:48.56] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:51.55] Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:54.05] The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.30] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.76] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:01.40] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n[04:03.69] An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n[04:06.06] Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.88] Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.97] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.42] Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n[04:17.33] Get yourself shot\n[04:20.57] All these MCs start realizin'\n[04:24.56] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n[04:28.74] The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n[04:34.26] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[04:38.91] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500 (feat. Raekwon & Cappadonna)\n  artist: Ghostface Killah/Raekwon/Cappadonna\n  album: Ghostface Killah...Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  start_ms: 70\n  end_ms: 8760\n- text: Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  start_ms: 8760\n  end_ms: 19060\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  start_ms: 19060\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 33640\n- text: '''Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez'\n  start_ms: 33640\n  end_ms: 41370\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 41370\n  end_ms: 59920\n- text: Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59920\n  end_ms: 62570\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62570\n  end_ms: 65010\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 65010\n  end_ms: 68050\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 68050\n  end_ms: 69990\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69990\n  end_ms: 72630\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72630\n  end_ms: 75190\n- text: Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 75190\n  end_ms: 77050\n- text: He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 77050\n  end_ms: 79660\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 79660\n  end_ms: 81910\n- text: Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81910\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 87270\n- text: Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 87270\n  end_ms: 89690\n- text: Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  start_ms: 89690\n  end_ms: 91810\n- text: Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91810\n  end_ms: 94200\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  start_ms: 94200\n  end_ms: 97020\n- text: On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 97020\n  end_ms: 99390\n- text: Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  start_ms: 99390\n  end_ms: 101560\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101560\n  end_ms: 104320\n- text: The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104320\n  end_ms: 106830\n- text: Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 106830\n  end_ms: 109250\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 109250\n  end_ms: 111700\n- text: Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111700\n  end_ms: 114010\n- text: We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 114010\n  end_ms: 116840\n- text: Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  start_ms: 116840\n  end_ms: 119000\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 119000\n  end_ms: 121640\n- text: Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  start_ms: 121640\n  end_ms: 124220\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 124220\n  end_ms: 127370\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 127370\n  end_ms: 131620\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131620\n  end_ms: 137130\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 137130\n  end_ms: 142820\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 142820\n  end_ms: 145530\n- text: Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 145530\n  end_ms: 147910\n- text: Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147910\n  end_ms: 150940\n- text: Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150940\n  end_ms: 153380\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 153380\n  end_ms: 155800\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 155800\n  end_ms: 157990\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157990\n  end_ms: 160680\n- text: Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160680\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165540\n- text: Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 165540\n  end_ms: 167790\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167790\n  end_ms: 170540\n- text: Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170540\n  end_ms: 172510\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 172510\n  end_ms: 175290\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 175290\n  end_ms: 177750\n- text: Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177750\n  end_ms: 179920\n- text: Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179920\n  end_ms: 182620\n- text: I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 182620\n  end_ms: 185140\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 185140\n  end_ms: 187580\n- text: Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187580\n  end_ms: 189940\n- text: The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189940\n  end_ms: 192380\n- text: Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  start_ms: 192380\n  end_ms: 194940\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194940\n  end_ms: 199240\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 199240\n  end_ms: 205790\n- text: That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 205790\n  end_ms: 210690\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 210690\n  end_ms: 215450\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 215450\n  end_ms: 220140\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220140\n  end_ms: 224210\n- text: My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 224210\n  end_ms: 226530\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  start_ms: 226530\n  end_ms: 228560\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 228560\n  end_ms: 231550\n- text: Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 231550\n  end_ms: 234050\n- text: The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 234050\n  end_ms: 236300\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236300\n  end_ms: 238760\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238760\n  end_ms: 241400\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  start_ms: 241400\n  end_ms: 243690\n- text: An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  start_ms: 243690\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248880\n- text: Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248880\n  end_ms: 250970\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250970\n  end_ms: 253420\n- text: Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  start_ms: 253420\n  end_ms: 257330\n- text: Get yourself shot\n  start_ms: 257330\n  end_ms: 260570\n- text: All these MCs start realizin'\n  start_ms: 260570\n  end_ms: 264560\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  start_ms: 264560\n  end_ms: 268740\n- text: The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 268740\n  end_ms: 274260\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 274260\n  end_ms: 278910\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 278910\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":21462671,"name":"Daytona 500 (Radio Edit)","trackName":"Daytona 500 (Radio Edit)","artistName":"Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Cappadonna","albumName":"Camay / Daytona 500","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\nLike Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\nAn' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\nSay, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRappel on fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAn' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\nBreak down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\nClaim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\nOn the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminum bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\nLayin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\nWe losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\nAbusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\nMercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\nRed an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\nRobbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\nIn the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\nBody chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\nYo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[Incomprehensible]All these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\nAn' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\nSweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\nNinety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\nGet yourself shot\nAll these MCs start realizin'\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\nThe Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500 (Radio Edit)\n  artist: Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Cappadonna\n  album: Camay / Daytona 500\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  We are the G.O.D's an' we came to rock the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks, they be the illest MCs in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon an' the R.Z.A., so listen to them clear\n  An' put the box right near your ear, light your blunts an' down your beers\n  'Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez\n  Say, \"Peace\" to cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rappel on fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear, in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  An' jet to the flyest estate, relate, take a break\n  Break down an eighth an' then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs, they be booin' an' screwin', we canoin'\n  Claim they doin' the same shit we doin', fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstyle\n  On the alley, tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminum bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac 10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, bustin' these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily, grands with our plans\n  Layin' with my bitches an' my mans in Lex Lands\n  We losin' 'em, jet to the stash an' now Jerusalem\n  Abusin' 'em, rockin' his jewels like we usin' 'em\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the older God, build with the Son an' the Star\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  Mercury raps is roughed, then God just shown like taps\n  Red an' white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doin' forever shit, like pissin' out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbin' niggaz for leathers, high swipin' on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slayin' all these earthlings an' fake foreigners\n  In the Phillipines, pick herbal beans, bubblin' strings\n  Body chemical 'Cream', we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zoomin' like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex with sparkles, Chef Ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man, no cheap cash metal, I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen, both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo, jostlin' these cats while Little J be deli-in'\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  [Incomprehensible]All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, what up Lils? Murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home, Son?\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Cristal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The mad hatter, big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it\n  An' keep it, jiggy style of rap an' watchin' knuckle slang\n  Sweep it out of order, ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten, Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  Ninety-six, my ill sound clash is still hot\n  Get yourself shot\n  All these MCs start realizin'\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibin'\n  The Wu is here to bring you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n"},{"id":3679649,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Shaolin's Finest","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Shaolin's Finest\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":3679650,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ironman","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ironman\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":33043795,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Marathon Music","duration":281.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Marathon Music\n  duration_ms: 281000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":32550977,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Pitchfork: The Top 200 Songs Of The 1990S","duration":280.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: 'Pitchfork: The Top 200 Songs Of The 1990S'\n  duration_ms: 280000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":20700833,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Wu: The Story of the Wu‐Tang Clan","duration":282.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: 'Wu: The Story of the Wu‐Tang Clan'\n  duration_ms: 282000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":20723865,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Put It On The Line","duration":230.79505,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Put It On The Line\n  duration_ms: 230795\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":23493648,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Shaolin's Finest (Explicit)","duration":281.216871,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Shaolin's Finest (Explicit)\n  duration_ms: 281217\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":22368816,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ironman","duration":272.144375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ironman\n  duration_ms: 272144\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":21530204,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Iron Man","duration":280.764083,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Iron Man\n  duration_ms: 280764\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"},{"id":21839834,"name":"Daytona 500","trackName":"Daytona 500","artistName":"Ghostface Killah","albumName":"Ironman (25th Anniversary)","duration":280.306667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n[Singing]\nWe are the G, O-D's\nAnd we came to rock, the spot\nLike Ironman Starks\nThey be the illest MC's, in the world today\nCappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\nSo listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\nLight your blunts and down your beers\nCause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n[Raekwon the Chef]\nSay peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\nStreet astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\nFly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\nPlay it God, he pack over the shoulder\nChrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\nFront on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\nRapel all fakes like reflectors\nHe had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\nWe can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\nRun in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\nAnd jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\nBreak down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\nThugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\nClaim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\nIt's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\nOn the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\nEspecially that, aluminium bat in the act\nRelax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\nThe Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\nIndex finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\nThe Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\nLaying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\nWe losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\nAbusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\nLow pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\nRoll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\nChorus:\n\nAll these MC's start realizing\nThat Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\nThe Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\nBut if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n[Ghostface Killah]\nMercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\nRed and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\nDoing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\nRobbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\nVoice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\nMurder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\nThe arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\nSlaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\nIn the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\nBiochemical cream, we burn kerosene\nThe conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\nLong-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\nKiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\nI slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\nZooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\nMoney's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\nI'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\nTrue identity hidden inside secret tabloids\nBreathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\nThe track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\nYo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\nSip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\nChorus\n\n[Cappadonna]\nGive me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\nMy Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\nKiller bee stung, guess who back home Son\nMy technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\nCrystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\nThe Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\nSmuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\nLet the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\nTop secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\nJiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\nOut of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\nSpoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\nHigh top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n'96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\nChorus","syncedLyrics":"[00:00.88] Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n[00:01.75] [Singing]\n[00:02.64] We are the G, O-D's\n[00:04.49] And we came to rock, the spot\n[00:08.04] Like Ironman Starks\n[00:11.71] They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n[00:17.19] Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n[00:22.65] So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n[00:29.92] Light your blunts and down your beers\n[00:33.52] Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n[00:39.04] [Raekwon the Chef]\n[00:59.58] Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n[01:02.24] Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n[01:04.08] Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n[01:06.84] Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n[01:09.54] Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n[01:12.29] Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n[01:14.09] Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n[01:16.85] He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n[01:18.64] We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n[01:21.31] Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n[01:24.13] And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n[01:26.86] Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n[01:29.55] Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n[01:31.35] Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n[01:34.00] It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n[01:35.86] On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n[01:38.50] Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n[01:41.29] Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n[01:44.06] The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n[01:45.88] Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n[01:48.57] The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n[01:51.22] Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n[01:53.92] We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n[01:55.77] Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n[01:58.56] Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n[02:01.24] Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n[02:03.06] Chorus:\n[02:03.91] All these MC's start realizing\n[02:06.66] That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n[02:11.19] The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n[02:16.66] But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n[02:19.35] [Ghostface Killah]\n[02:21.14] Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n[02:24.74] Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n[02:27.40] Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n[02:30.19] Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n[02:32.85] Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n[02:34.69] Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n[02:37.44] The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n[02:40.18] Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n[02:41.91] In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n[02:44.66] Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n[02:47.35] The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n[02:50.06] Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n[02:51.82] Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n[02:54.65] I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n[02:57.33] Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n[02:59.12] Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n[03:01.84] I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n[03:04.50] True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n[03:07.20] Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n[03:09.01] The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n[03:11.82] Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n[03:14.53] Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n[03:17.19] Chorus\n[03:37.98] [Cappadonna]\n[03:40.67] Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n[03:43.35] My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n[03:46.00] Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n[03:47.93] My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n[03:50.64] Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n[03:53.36] The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n[03:56.09] Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n[03:58.78] Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n[04:00.50] Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n[04:04.29] Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n[04:06.06] Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n[04:08.74] Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n[04:10.59] High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n[04:13.29] '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n[04:18.63] Chorus\n[04:39.41] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Daytona 500\n  artist: Ghostface Killah\n  album: Ironman (25th Anniversary)\n  duration_ms: 280307\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n  start_ms: 880\n  end_ms: 1750\n- text: '[Singing]'\n  start_ms: 1750\n  end_ms: 2640\n- text: We are the G, O-D's\n  start_ms: 2640\n  end_ms: 4490\n- text: And we came to rock, the spot\n  start_ms: 4490\n  end_ms: 8040\n- text: Like Ironman Starks\n  start_ms: 8040\n  end_ms: 11710\n- text: They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  start_ms: 11710\n  end_ms: 17190\n- text: Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  start_ms: 17190\n  end_ms: 22650\n- text: So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  start_ms: 22650\n  end_ms: 29920\n- text: Light your blunts and down your beers\n  start_ms: 29920\n  end_ms: 33520\n- text: Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n  start_ms: 33520\n  end_ms: 39040\n- text: '[Raekwon the Chef]'\n  start_ms: 39040\n  end_ms: 59580\n- text: Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  start_ms: 59580\n  end_ms: 62240\n- text: Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  start_ms: 62240\n  end_ms: 64080\n- text: Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  start_ms: 64080\n  end_ms: 66840\n- text: Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  start_ms: 66840\n  end_ms: 69540\n- text: Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  start_ms: 69540\n  end_ms: 72290\n- text: Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  start_ms: 72290\n  end_ms: 74090\n- text: Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  start_ms: 74090\n  end_ms: 76850\n- text: He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  start_ms: 76850\n  end_ms: 78640\n- text: We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  start_ms: 78640\n  end_ms: 81310\n- text: Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  start_ms: 81310\n  end_ms: 84130\n- text: And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  start_ms: 84130\n  end_ms: 86860\n- text: Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  start_ms: 86860\n  end_ms: 89550\n- text: Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  start_ms: 89550\n  end_ms: 91350\n- text: Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  start_ms: 91350\n  end_ms: 94000\n- text: It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  start_ms: 94000\n  end_ms: 95860\n- text: On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  start_ms: 95860\n  end_ms: 98500\n- text: Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  start_ms: 98500\n  end_ms: 101290\n- text: Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  start_ms: 101290\n  end_ms: 104060\n- text: The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  start_ms: 104060\n  end_ms: 105880\n- text: Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  start_ms: 105880\n  end_ms: 108570\n- text: The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  start_ms: 108570\n  end_ms: 111220\n- text: Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  start_ms: 111220\n  end_ms: 113920\n- text: We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  start_ms: 113920\n  end_ms: 115770\n- text: Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  start_ms: 115770\n  end_ms: 118560\n- text: Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  start_ms: 118560\n  end_ms: 121240\n- text: Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n  start_ms: 121240\n  end_ms: 123060\n- text: 'Chorus:'\n  start_ms: 123060\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: All these MC's start realizing\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126660\n- text: That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  start_ms: 126660\n  end_ms: 131190\n- text: The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  start_ms: 131190\n  end_ms: 136660\n- text: But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n  start_ms: 136660\n  end_ms: 139350\n- text: '[Ghostface Killah]'\n  start_ms: 139350\n  end_ms: 141140\n- text: Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  start_ms: 141140\n  end_ms: 144740\n- text: Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  start_ms: 144740\n  end_ms: 147400\n- text: Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  start_ms: 147400\n  end_ms: 150190\n- text: Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  start_ms: 150190\n  end_ms: 152850\n- text: Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  start_ms: 152850\n  end_ms: 154690\n- text: Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  start_ms: 154690\n  end_ms: 157440\n- text: The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  start_ms: 157440\n  end_ms: 160180\n- text: Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  start_ms: 160180\n  end_ms: 161910\n- text: In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  start_ms: 161910\n  end_ms: 164660\n- text: Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  start_ms: 164660\n  end_ms: 167350\n- text: The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  start_ms: 167350\n  end_ms: 170060\n- text: Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  start_ms: 170060\n  end_ms: 171820\n- text: Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  start_ms: 171820\n  end_ms: 174650\n- text: I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  start_ms: 174650\n  end_ms: 177330\n- text: Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  start_ms: 177330\n  end_ms: 179120\n- text: Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  start_ms: 179120\n  end_ms: 181840\n- text: I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  start_ms: 181840\n  end_ms: 184500\n- text: True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  start_ms: 184500\n  end_ms: 187200\n- text: Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  start_ms: 187200\n  end_ms: 189010\n- text: The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  start_ms: 189010\n  end_ms: 191820\n- text: Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  start_ms: 191820\n  end_ms: 194530\n- text: Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n  start_ms: 194530\n  end_ms: 197190\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 197190\n  end_ms: 217980\n- text: '[Cappadonna]'\n  start_ms: 217980\n  end_ms: 220670\n- text: Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  start_ms: 220670\n  end_ms: 223350\n- text: My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  start_ms: 223350\n  end_ms: 226000\n- text: Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  start_ms: 226000\n  end_ms: 227930\n- text: My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  start_ms: 227930\n  end_ms: 230640\n- text: Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  start_ms: 230640\n  end_ms: 233360\n- text: The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  start_ms: 233360\n  end_ms: 236090\n- text: Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  start_ms: 236090\n  end_ms: 238780\n- text: Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  start_ms: 238780\n  end_ms: 240500\n- text: Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  start_ms: 240500\n  end_ms: 244290\n- text: Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  start_ms: 244290\n  end_ms: 246060\n- text: Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  start_ms: 246060\n  end_ms: 248740\n- text: Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  start_ms: 248740\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253290\n- text: '''96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot'\n  start_ms: 253290\n  end_ms: 258630\n- text: Chorus\n  start_ms: 258630\n  end_ms: 279410\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 279410\nplain: |-\n  Featuring Raekwon the Chef, Cappadonna\n\n  [Singing]\n  We are the G, O-D's\n  And we came to rock, the spot\n  Like Ironman Starks\n  They be the illest MC's, in the world today\n  Cappa, Raekwon and the R-Z-A\n  So listen to them clear, and put the box right near your ear\n  Light your blunts and down your beers\n  Cause you could never fuck with Wu-Tang Killer Beez...\n\n  [Raekwon the Chef]\n  Say peace to cats who rock mack knowledge knowledgists\n  Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this\n  Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder\n  Play it God, he pack over the shoulder\n  Chrome tanks, player like Yanks, check the franchise\n  Front on my guys, my enterprise splash many lives\n  Rapel all fakes like reflectors\n  He had sugar in his ear in his last crack career\n  We can can him, manhandle him, if you wanna\n  Run in his crib-o, get ditto, skate like a limo\n  And jet to the flyest estate, relate take a break\n  Break down an eighth and then wait drop it like Drake\n  Thugs they be booing and screwing, we canoeing\n  Claim they doing the same shit we doing, fuck your union\n  It's the same style, RZA trainable, jump the turnstile\n  On the alley tried to challenge God for the new vials\n  Especially that, aluminium bat in the act\n  Relax, lay back, sell a grenade a day, it pays black\n  The Mac-10 flex white cats like Windex\n  Index finger be sore, busting these fly scripts\n  The Wally kid count crazily grands with our plans\n  Laying with my bitches and my man's in Lex Lands\n  We losing them, jet to the stash and now Jerusalem\n  Abusing them, rocking his jewels like we using them\n  Low pro star, seven thick waves rock Polar\n  Roll with the Older God, build with the Son and the Star\n\n  Chorus:\n\n  All these MC's start realizing\n  That Ghost got that shit, that'll keep you vibing\n  The Wu is here to bring, you Shaolin's finest\n  But if your shields are weak, you better step behind us\n\n  [Ghostface Killah]\n  Mercury raps is roughed then God just shown like taps\n  Red and white Wally's that match, bend my baseball hat\n  Doing forever shit, like pissing out the window on turnpikes\n  Robbing niggaz for leathers, high swiping on dirt bikes\n  Voice be metal like Von Harper radio bubble\n  Murder sleep away camp, the fly lady champ\n  The arsonist, who burn with his pen regardless\n  Slaying all these earthlings and fake foreigners\n  In the Philippines, pick herbal beans, bubbling strings\n  Biochemical cream, we burn kerosene\n  The conviction of my tape is rape, wicked like Nixon\n  Long-heads inscriptions with three sixes in\n  Kiss the pyramid experiment with high explosive\n  I slapbox with Jesus, lick shots at Joseph\n  Zooming like binoculars, the rap blacksmith\n  Money's Rolex, with sparkles, Chef ragtop is spotless\n  I'm Iron Man no cheap cash metal I'm steel alloy\n  True identity hidden inside secret tabloids\n  Breathe oxygen both sides of my jaw carry oxes\n  The track hit like the bangers, in hundred watt boxes\n  Yo jostling these cats while Little J be dallying\n  Sip Irish Moss out of Widelians\n\n  Chorus\n\n  [Cappadonna]\n  Give me the the fifty thou, small bills, my gold plate, my slang kills\n  My Benz spills, whattup Lils, murder one Dunn\n  Killer bee stung, guess who back home Son\n  My technique of slang camp won, third platoon soon\n  Crystal bottles, cages of boom, probably wardrobe\n  The Mad Hatter big dick style, beware goons\n  Smuggle balloons, lord of dooms, in fat pussy wombs\n  Let the Gods build, pull up the grill, check out the mad skills\n  Top secret technique, too hard for you to peep it and keep it,\n  Jiggy style of rap and watching knuckle slang, sweep it\n  Out of order ape recorder can't record my slaughter\n  Spoil the rotten Don is too good to be forgotten\n  High top notch, borderline rhymes is hand cocked\n  '96, my ill sound clash is still hot, get yourself shot\n\n  Chorus\n"}]