Raekwon – Incarcerated Scarfaces – Only Built 4 Cuban Linx… – Hip-hop – (1995)

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🎙️ARTIST: Raekwon
📣TITLE: Incarcereted Scarfaces
💿ALBUM: Only Built 4 Cuban Linx..
📆RELEASED: (1995)

La Note Firebarzzz

« I wrote that song right there for all my niggas that was locked up. I happened to just be thinking about it. I think one of my mans had just went away for a long time. I wanted to have something on the album to represent the niggas that’s inside the belly of the beast. You got a lot of cats also that wear that scar on their face. So I definitely just wanted to shout out all the criminals on that record right there. All the ones that’s incarcerated, they scarfaces, too. Plus, whoever walking around with a buck fifty or three hundred on their face, this record’s for you. When you think ain’t nobody paying attention to you, Chef thought about you.

I just was rhyming man. I came in RZA’s basement one night and he just had that shit poppin’, and I looked around the room and nobody was there. I was like, ‘I want this shit! This is me!’ I wrote my rhyme in maybe like fifteen minutes. The whole three verses. I was just flying. It was just coming to me ‘cause that’s how I get it in sometimes. If something really yokes me up like this, the beat just go, then I’m ready to get on it. I just aired that shit out in like fifteen minutes. Before you know it the song was popping, hook on it, everything. We like, ‘That’s Cuban Linx.’

It pops in the club. That’s definitely a lot of people’s favorite record. Especially when I go to Connecticut. I call it the Connecticut anthem. It’s like I just put a whole [state] in my pocket when I did that. I feel like if I’m anywhere in the world, especially Connecticut, if I’m fucked up, somebody gonna hold me down just based on that record. »

(Raekwon via Complex)

Raekwon: The way RZA had it poppin’ back then, we would come into his spot. It was like dudes would come in on their own time and create stuff. I remember I just came in, and the beat was just pumpin’. I wrote the hook—that was the first thing I did. I think one of my mans just got hit with some heavy time around that time. I had a lot of niggas up there, too. So, it was like, Yo, this one gotta be for them niggas right here. This right here will be just for them niggas in jail. It won’t be for nobody else. I just wrote it out real quick. I did three verses on that, so Ghost didn’t have to come in and really do anything to it.

RZA: I wasn’t making that beat for Rae. I was finished with Rae. I like having 13 tracks. I don’t like having 18. I was making it for GZA probably. He was next. But then Rae heard that beat, grabbed his pen and paper, and started writing. Two hours later, it was written.

via XXL Mag

Lyrics

[Chorus]
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is runnin’ out
It’s for real, though, let’s connect, politic, ditto
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces

[Verse 1]
Thug-related style attract millions, fans
They understand my plan, who’s the kid up in the green Land?
Me and the RZA connect, blow a fuse, you lose
Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised
Fake be fronting, hourglass-heads niggas be wanting
Shutting down your slot, time for pumping
Poisonous sting, which thumps up and act chumps
Rae’s a heavy generator, but yo, guess who’s the black Trump?
Dough be flowing by the hours, Wu, we got the collars
Scholars, word life, peace to Power and my whole unit
Word up, quick to set it, don’t wet it
Real niggas lick shots, peace Connecticut

[Chorus]
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is runnin’ out
It’s for real, though, let’s connect, politic, ditto
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces

[Verse 2]
Chef’ll shine like marble, rhyme remarkable
Real niggas raise up, spend your money, argue
But this time is for the uninvited
Go ‘head and rhyme to it, bitch nigga, mics is getting fired
More fiends, chicks be burning like chlorine
Niggas recognize from here to Baltimore to Fort Greene
But hold up, Moët be tasting like throw-up
My mob roll up, dripped to death, whips rolled up
You never had no wins, sliding in these dens
With Timbs, with MAC-10’s and broke friends
You got guns? Got guns too, what up, son?
Do you wanna battle for cash and see who sons who?
I’ll probably wax tracks, smack rap niggas, you, facts
Niggas’ lyrics are wack, nigga
Can’t stand unofficial, wet tissue, blank busting Scud missiles
You rolling like Trump, you get your meat lumped
For real, it’s just slang rap democracy
Here’s the policy, slide off the ring, plus the Wallabees
Check the status, soon to see me at, Caesar’s Palace eating salads
We beating mics sending keys to Dallas
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell
From where we at to my man’s cell
From staircase to stage, minimum wage
But soon to get a article in Rap Page
But all I need is my house, my gat, my Ac’
Bank account fat, it’s going down like that
And pardon the French, but let me speak Italian
Black stallions wildling on Shaolin
That means the island of Staten
And niggas carry gats and mad police from Manhattan

[Chorus]
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is runnin’ out
It’s for real though, let’s connect, politic, ditto
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces

[Verse 3]
I do this for barber shop niggas in the Plaza
Catching asthma, Rae is sticking gun-flashers
Well-dressed, skating through the projects with big ones
Broke elevators, turn the lights out, stick one upstairs
Switch like a chameleon, hit Brazilians
Pass the cash or leave your children, leave the building
Niggas, yo, they be folding like envelopes
Under pressure, like Lou Ferrigno on coke
Yo, Africans denying niggas up in yellow cabs
Musty like fuck, waving they arms to Arabs
Sit back, cooling like Kahlúas on rocks
On the crack spots, rubber band wrap all my knots
View bitches who fuck dreads on Sudafeds
Pussy’s hurting, they did it for a yard for the feds
Word up, cousin, nigga, I seen it
Like a 27-inch Zenith, believe it

[Chorus]
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is runnin’ out
It’s for real, though, let’s connect, politic, ditto
We could trade places, get lifted in the staircases
Word up, peace, incarcerated scarfaces

[Outro]
Yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is runnin’ out
It’s for real, though, let’s connect, politic, ditto
Get lifted in the staircases
Peace, incarcerated scarfaces
Time is runnin’ out
Politic, ditto
Incarcerated scarfaces