[Hook: Method Man (George Clinton)]   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (1-2-3-4)      [U-God]   Blood money mercenaries, think you can muscle Wu?   It's a foot race, who can out-hustle who?   Hip hop junkie flunky, monkey see, monkey do   Great minds connect like mobster rings   Sit back, let me do my, Sinatra thing   I'm in the Hip Hop Hall of Fame, on the wall is the plaques   Old ball and chain, I named her Madam X   She love big cannons, sex unprotected   You better respect it, kid, we 'bout to set trip   You get ya neck ripped, eyeballs are scoping   I don't sell crack, I sell dopium   Catch him at the podium, nah, he moving too fast   Professor X, behind the bulletproof glass   You need a Wu pass, a bag of that high   Easy with the flicks, baby, I'm camera shy      [Hook: Method Man (George Clinton)]   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (1-2-3-4)      [Cappadonna]   We might have to 8 Diagram one of y'all MC's   We grind everyday and we hustle for cheese   Got our face on the front of CD's, we off the hook   W.T.C. y'all soft and shook   Y'all not built like the Cuban Linx Clan that get CREAM   And back heads down every time we sing   Give us a hundred grand for a show, let us rock   For more money, more chicks, more private stock      [Streetlife]   They call me Streetlife, slap the taste   Out ya mug, know ya place, you ain't thug, fix ya face   Throw a slug, catch a case   Meanwhile, beat trial, back on that cash cow   Getting CREAM, however, a street brother know how   Point blank, I'm pulling rank, calling shot, I got bank   Pass the rock, my hand's hot, hit 'em with the showshotter   Peace to my ala mater, Wu-Tang block scholars   Never settle for less, promoters pay us top dollar      [Hook: Method Man (George Clinton)]   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (Eastside, Westside)   Get that money, God, keep your sword sharp (1-2-3-4)      [Outro: George Clinton]   The Clan'll talk, Calabama niggaz all'll quit   Talking that short dick shit, we was s'posed to be cool   Only the clue's on the other end of the stick   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   Over-crowded police blood bamboo bimbo   Chickenhead skeezer crackrock hoodrat   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   Barney here is down to a feeding dreadlock   Armpit like two Buckwheat's in a headlock   Macy Gray's hair between your leg lock   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   Ya mother's so cross-eyed, when she cry tears roll down her back   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   [coughs] This shit is strong, god damn, what you got in there?   Over-crowded police blood bamboo bimbo   Chickenhead skeezer crackhead hoodrat   Somebody let the monkeys out the cage   Ya mother's so cross-eyed, when she cry tears roll down her back   Calabama niggaz all'll quit   Talking that short dick shit   Speak up, no loud speaker but I'm speaking loud   Venacular ass kicking, truth got there in crowd   Shit, they call me the lethal lip   The linguistic, full metal jacket of venacular ballistic   Shooting out at the mouth without Chap or Blistec   Here's a mothafucka, I didn't flunk diaper rash   I'm verbally toxic, metal-piercing, forked, hollow point tongue   Dum dum, pow, shot from gattling gums   Hooked on phonics, packing a vicious vocabulary   Malicious, with malice and mayhem   Fuck a dictionary, give me the mic and I'll slay   Them and literally poetic symptoms   Pissing me the fuck off, missing me with that shit   I stick a venacular foot so far up in ya ass   You won't be able to pass verbal gas   So far in ya ass that one of my knees will rise so far above ya head   And you drown of a poetic ass kicking   Leaving lyrical lacerations on your lungs, from a verbal hangnail   That hung on my big toe, as I flow upward   Kicking yo on ya eardrum, you wanna hear some?   Tap dance on ya tonsils, leaving kiwi shoe polish on ya breath   Cavity in ya best rhyme, and I'm the access on the rest   Call me the proverbial verbal menacing dentist   With the drill, I got lyrical skills   I could perform oral root canals   It's unwise to fuck with me   Kick ya wisdom teeth down ya throat   Leaving you to choke   On where it hurts, unspoken vocals   Tying down ya vocal cord and windpipe tight   With toe jamming and ya mothafucking hemmoroids   Fuck the dumb shit...