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[RZA] All you hoes, be cryin for these bitches All you niggaz, be cryin for these hoes [scratched samples] "Both hands clusty" - Ghost, "Pullin out gats" - Raekwon "Double barreled" - Meth, "Blew off the burner kinda dusty" - Ghost "We back, don't test" - Raekwon, "Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth "Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth "Math, let the plate spin" - GZA, "Many brothers y'all be sparkin" "Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot" - Inspectah Deck "If ya fuck with Wu, we gots ta fuck witchu" - Method Man [Ghostface Killah] Who the fuck knocked our buildings down? Who the man behind the World Trade massacres, step up now Where the four planes at huh is you insane bitch? Fly that shit over my hood and get blown to bits! No disrespect, that's where I rest my head I understand you gotta rest yours true, nigga my people's dead America, together we stand, divided we fall Mr. Bush sit down, I'm in charge of the war! [Inspectah Deck] Yes yes y'all, the I-N-S bless y'all Stop hearts like cholesterol, let's brawl Role call where my niggaz that's one for all Never fall, tear it down like a wreckin ball Cash in the envelope, spend it on kinfolk And all for one, we draw the guns on impulse Providin you pure ecstasy without pills Then smoke a ounce as we count mills [Chorus: Method Man] Y'all know the rules, we don't fuck with fools man How the fuck did we get so cool man? Never ever disrespect my crew If ya fuck with Wu we gots ta fuck witchu [Masta Killa] Y'all dogs better guard ya grills, it's all real We live from (?), it's the God I-Reelz Yo wonderful, spark the blillz Let me build with the people for the mills I'm rollin with the Rebel I-Ill from Killa Hill, peace to Brownsville Brothers that'll kill for the will of the righteous Twenty-five to lifers, true and livin snipers You wait like "Sixth Sense" 'til hard to kill How you livin StreetLife? I'm surrounded by criminals [StreetLife] Serial killers tote guns without the serial High-tech, street intellect, all digital Project original, sheisty individual New York's bravest, always supply you with the latest We hall of famers, and still hit you with the greatest Thanks to all you haters for all the cream you made us Took a year hiatus, now you wanna hate us [Raekwon the Chef] [Chorus] Sendin letters to (?), my cousin in Wendy's on Viacom At home, it's worth money, I adorns We got the fitteds on, lookin all fink Order drinks, all real niggaz order your minks yo Daddy everybody get money from now on Payday flash Visas livin like, Easter e'ryday Don't fuck Benz, rather a 430 That shit that float through water, eyeball come up, drop birdies yo [Method Man] We can eat right, or we can clap these toys I'm with StreetLife, ain't never been a Backstreet Boy Who y'all kiddin? Tryin to act like my shoe fittin It's Hot Nixon, same team same position Confused with ya head up yo' ass like who's shittin? Y'all still bitchin, still lame and still chicken Battin average three-five-seven and still hittin I'm still here, one leg missin and still kickin Cause I'm haaaaaaaaaaaard! Hard like a criminal Love like a tennis shoe, throw slug to finish you I can tell this motherfucker ain't Wu, look at his neck It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth "Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth "Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth - "Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang" [Method Man] It's Wu-Tang, rushin yo' gang, crushin the game Pretty thugs, clutchin they chain, hand cuppin they thang Who get strange, gassed up playin with flames Let a nigga take off his shades, see what I'm sayin is.. [Chorus]
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