Текст Wu–Tang Clan – Mistaken Identity

Intro:
Wanna go home and see my wife and kids
I wanna go home and see my wife and kids
I wanna go home

Verse 1 — Inspectah Deck:
They want me locked down, fryin’ in jail
Before you hear that I decided to tell, I’d rather die in a cell
I was framed like a wedding flick, 2 time felon
Still a predicate, doin’ time, tell ’em that’s a negative
Prejudice judge, bails be a mil’ in cash
Scorin’ money like the meter on the Yellow Cab
Give the witness an unexpected visit
Make his story change like walls blockin’ his vision
Couldn’t give a clear description, fearin’ the repercussions
Like, «I was on the ground, I ain’t see him bustin'»
Now the DA chasin’ a plea, they hatin’ I’m free
The case is mistaken identity

Verse 2 — Method Man:
Whoever push me like Pusha T, I push back
I push a cap, before ’93, I pushed crack
I’m hood, black, you know me well, what’s good Scrap?
I’m smokin’ rappers, you are a L, what’s good Smack?
Hold up that’s goods rap, pardon self
I just like good rap, but when I see goods I give his goods back
I rap for riders that pack strap to rhymers that backpack

Hook x2 — Streetlife:
Mistaken identity, you highly mistaken me
Check my ID, Wu-Tang, that’s the legacy

Verse 3 — U-God:
Fresh off of work, he jumped out the van
Two suitcases, dangle on his hands
He opened up the door, headed up the stairs
Thought he heard a noise, but no one else was there
First sight he saw, struck him by surprise
Two shots was given, between his girl’s eyes
Windows blown out, no prints on the door
All he seen was blood stains, smear the damn floor
911, ambulance showed up
Blood everywhere, paramedics throwin’ up
Cops cuffed him up, hit him with the charge
But he was bangin’ Mrs. Prixy at the Motor Lodge
He got his alibis, gonna use ’em all
The screw fit the judge, he might take the fall
Someone set him up, a botched robbery
Mistaken identity, yeah it gotta be

Verse 4 — Cappadonna:
17 years old, I’m headed back to the hole
Mistaken identity, every way was sold
I look like a hoodlum, I rock a lot of gold
They lockin’ everybody up, ship your ass up the road
I ain’t have a 9 on me, they was lyin’ on me
Court day with my old bird, they was spyin’ on me
Tried to set me up, plantin’ coke in my pocket
The beast pat me up, they won’t let me off

Verse 5 — Masta Killa:
Na-n-n-n-n-n-n-nah it wasn’t me
It could never been the G-O-D, not me
You terribly mistaken, son, I ain’t the one
We could never look nothin’ like, whether near or far sight
What resemblance does he strike? So my mic Fahrenheit
W for my a-alike, your DNA match tight
Even if they bite us, close but not quite
They still tryna get it right, mistaken identity

Hook x4

Hook x4