We grindin', down to the bone my name grounded in stone
Leave you cursed us 'cuz you worship the gat
Well I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers
Hook for y'all niggas, check it out
Only dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens
That's as far as it goes?
Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day
Yet he's still hella lit cigarette between his fingers
The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings
Sound about to go off on some real live
See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces
She's exactly like that 10304 is
Yeah we wild like rock stars who smash guitars
Handcuffed to the turntables like Wizard Theodore
Dirty Island, drag bodies to the murder land
Yo, you hear me?
(Let's get this paper together)
Official Wu-Tang head-banger
Mr Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome
Front on react and sippin' Cognac so relax dude
We airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we on
The Genius, it's the Ol' D-d-dirty Bastard
Wu shit, uh, huh
Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA
The rat pack is back from the Island of Stat'
(The Man)
Stuck everything that's the God's honest beyond
For real I can't call it
With star-writers like I fucked Celine Dion
Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers
(That's right, c'mon nigga)
We got females that got it like that
Yo, one, two
One, two, one, two
160, my song, we throwin' elbows
Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand
Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss
Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't Ghost
Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery
(All the way up)
From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous
Lick shots, leave your head like a Shaolin monk with six dots
We got a history, full of lightning victories
They hit 'em fast, with an effortless performance
Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks
Yellow suede one matching hat with the gray gun
I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners
Long vision, from giants in every way
Lemme give y'all the bullshit
The golden child's that bone the crowd
Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage
You know how we do
Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin'
It's no joke, iron coat, rifle with a scope
Already know the island I'm from
Know I'm with these cracks dude
Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus
(Yeah, whut up Toney?)
See niggas in the place that bit my style
Danger when you step into the chamber with the master
From the East to the Ville, from the West to the hills
Snitch niggas swallow your tongue
Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka
We all wore down y'all broke niggas stay frontin'
Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose
You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh, huh
Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero
My whole crew's fresh out the bars
Diggler, a.k.a The Cab Driver
And y'all don't want no problems with them
(WTC, Ghost-face)
Wu-Tang got the answer
'Cuz if I had a chance to do it again
Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock
(Killer Beats)
M-E-T-H-O-D the B-O-B-B
Brooklyn, zoo, zoo
W'sup Don' Don'
I will still keep the heat in my pants, uh
Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jury on
Shining like a hundred thousand in stones
You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast
Eyes open from the shock of being popped in the neck
You see I love Lucy 'cuz she Lawless
I shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enough
The burners in the stash, we about the cash
Brooklyn, zoo, zoo
Word life to big screen Don, tapping dust-bones out
I'm Mr Violence we loungin' with Chrome
Staten's where the war is
Drop him off in the middle of fire
Two of my silver-backs fun through a pack of your wolves
Y'all be nice to the crack heads, everybody listen up
Disaster, gotta blast ya, 'cuz I have ta
Smash pretty boy niggas, crush they karma
Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills
Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big part
It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor
Turn it up, turn it up
Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us
The headphones, turn it up
Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up
One toke, brains float, shot to the throat
Where the court system's running out of warrants
The first one to snap drunk off your Smirnoff
MCs start fleeing in flocks
Yo, Dirt McGirt, solid tone smith with fifth shots
Before the smoke hit, witness the killing
Southern crime scene, body on the block
