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