Wu-Tang Lyrics
7th Chambers-
Intro:
Take that motherfucker
GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!
Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin notty-headed niggaz
Word to the camoflouge large niggaz
Bitch niggaz fuckin my body
Bring that fuckin meth in here
Yo yo yo yo
Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain
and yo, set it off
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWN
As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore
but giving you more and more, like ding!
Nah shorty, get you open like six packs
Killer Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks
A'ight? I kick it like a Night Flite!
Word life, I get that ass while I'm fulla spite!
Check the method from Bedrock, cause I rock ya head to bed
Just like rockin what? Twin glocks!
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, we going to war right now
So, yo, bombin
We Usually Take All Niggaz Garments
Save ya breath before I bomb it
Verse Two: Method Man
I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward
I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword
So how you figure that you can even fuck with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!
And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cow
I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical
The FUCK you wanna do? More than Spike Lee's Do
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root
PLO style, buddha monks with the owls
So who's the fucking man? Meth-Tical
On the chessbox
Verse Three: Inspector Deck
Yo, yeah, yo
I leave the mic in body bags, my rap style has
The force to leave you lost, like the tribe of Shabazz
Murderous material, made by a madman
It's the mic wrecker, Inspector, bad man
From the bad lands of the killer, rap fanatic
Representing with the skill that's iller
Dare to compare, get pierced just like an ear
The zoo-we-do-wop-bop strictly hardware
Armed and geared cause I just broke out the prison
Charged by the system - for murdering the rhythm!
Now, lo and behold, another deadly episode
Bound to catch another fuckin charge when I explode
Verse Four: Ghostface Killer
Slammin a hype-ass verse til ya head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
Rap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrock
I ran up in spots like Fort Knox!
I'm hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logic
Flashback's how I attacked your whole project
I'm raw, I'm rugged and raw! I repeat, if I die
My seed'll be ill like me
Approachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neck
I get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex'
So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cage
Peace, I'm out, jettin like a runaway slave
Verse Five: Prince Rakeem/RZA
Yo
Ya gettin stripped from ya garments, boy, run ya jewels
While the meth got me open like falopian tubes
I bring death to a snake when he least expect
Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck
Ruler Zig Zag, Zig-Allah jam is fatal
Quick to stick my Wu-Tang sword right through ya navel
Suspenseful, plus bein bought through my utensil
The pencil, I break strong winds up against your
Abbot, that run up through your county like the Maverick
Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics
Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard
Are you, uh, ah, uh
Are you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurai
The Ol' Dirty Bastard VUNDABAH
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS!
Niggaz be gettin on my fuckin nerves
Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they fuckin ass to the curb
I got funky fresh, like the old specialist
A carrier, messenger, bury ya
This experience is for the whole experience
Let it be applied, and THEN DROP THAT SCIENCE
Verse Seven: Genius/GZA
My my my
My Clan is thick like plaster
Bust ya, slash ya
Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Master Killer
Style jumped off and Killa, Hill-er
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manilla
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like getting smashed by a cinder block
Blaow! Now it's all over
Niggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moons
orange stars and green clovers
7th chamber part 2-
Intro: The Genius/GZA (from "Clan in Da Front")
Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to what
---
This goes back to nineteen..
Ahem, check it, yo
GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!
Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin notty-headed niggaz
Word to the camoflouge large niggaz
Bitch niggaz fuckin my body
Bring that fuckin meth in here
Yo yo yo yo
Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack you like a pit that lock shit DOWN
As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore
but giving you more and more, like ding!
Nah shorty, get you open like six packs
Killer Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks
A'ight? I kick it like a Night Flite!
Word life, I get that ass while I'm fulla spite!
Check the method from Bedrock, cause I rock ya head to bed
Just like rockin what? Twin glocks!
Shake the ground while my beats just break you down
Raw sound, we going to war right now
So, yo, bombin
We Usually Take All Niggaz Garments
Save ya breath before I bomb it
Verse Two: Method Man
I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward
I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword
So how you figure that you can even fuck with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!
And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cow
I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical
The FUCK you wanna do? More than Spike Lee's Do
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root
PLO style, buddha monks with the owls
So who's the fucking man? Meth-Tical
On the chessbox
Verse Three: Inspector Deck
Yo, yeah, yo
I leave the mic in body bags, my rap style has
The force to leave you lost, like the tribe of Shabazz
Murderous material, made by a madman
It's the mic wrecker, Inspector, bad man
From the bad lands of the killer, rap fanatic
Representing with the skill that's iller
Dare to compare, get pierced just like an ear
The zoo-we-do-wop-bop strictly hardware
Armed and geared cause I just broke out the prison
Charged by the system - for murdering the rhythm!
Now, lo and behold, another deadly episode
Bound to catch another fuckin charge when I explode
Verse Four: Ghostface Killer
Slammin a hype-ass verse til ya head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
Rap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrock
I ran up in spots like Fort Knox!
I'm hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logic
Flashback's how I attacked your whole project
I'm raw, I'm rugged and raw! I repeat, if I die
My seed'll be ill like me
Approachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neck
I get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex'
So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cage
Peace, I'm out, jettin like a runaway slave
Verse Five: Prince Rakeem/RZA
Yo
Ya gettin stripped from ya garments, boy, run ya jewels
While the meth got me open like falopian tubes
I bring death to a snake when he least expect
Ain't a damn thing changed, boy, Protect Ya Neck
Ruler Zig Zag, Zig-Allah jam is fatal
Quick to stick my Wu-Tang sword right through ya navel
Suspenseful, plus bein bought through my utensil
The pencil, I break strong winds up against your
Abbot, that run up through your county like the Maverick
Caps through the tablets, I gots to make the fabrics
Verse Six: Ol Dirty Bastard
Are you, uh, ah, uh
Are you a warrior? Killer? Slicin shit like a samurai
The Ol' Dirty Bastard VUNDABAH
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin atcha ass like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS!
Niggaz be gettin on my fuckin nerves
Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they fuckin ass to the curb
I got funky fresh, like the old specialist
A carrier, messenger, bury ya
This experience is for the whole experience
Let it be applied, and THEN DROP THAT SCIENCE
Verse Seven: Genius/GZA
My my my
My Clan is thick like plaster
Bust ya, slash ya
Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Master Killer
Style jumped off and Killa, Hill-er
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manilla
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like getting smashed by a cinder block
Blaow! Now it's all over
Niggaz seeing pink hearts, yellow moons
orange stars and green clovers
Can It Be All So Simple-
Intro: Raekwon the Chef
[Can it be that it was all so simple then]
KnowhatI'msayin, take you on this lyrical high real quick
Nineteen ninety three exoticness
KnowhatI'msayin, let's get technical
Where's your bone at, get up on that shit aight
Yo!!
Verse One:
Started off on the island, AK Shaolin
Niggaz whylin, gun shots thrown the phone dialin
Back in the days of eight now, makin a tape now
Rae gotta get a plate now
Ignorant and mad young, wanted to be the one
Till I got (BAM! BAM!) thrown one
Yeah, my pops was a fiend since sixteen
Shootin' that (that's that shit!) in his blood stream
That's the life of a crimey, real live crimey
If niggas know the half is behind me
Day one, yo, growin all up in the ghetto
Now I'm a weed fiend, jettin the Palmetto
In Medina, yo no doubt the God got crazy clout
Pushin the big joint from down South
So if you're filthy stacked up
Betta watch ya back and duck
Cause these fiends they got it cracked up
Now my man from up north, now he got the law
It's solid as a rock and crazy salt
No jokes, I'm not playin, get his folks
Desert Eagle his dick and put 'em in a yolk (AAH!)
And to know for sure, I got reck and rip shop
I pointed a gat at his mother's knot
(Yo, Rae, don't do that shit, man! Don't do that shit! [gun shots] )
Fuck that
(Chorus)
(Raekwon) Dedicated to the winners and the losers
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Ghost Face Killer) Dedicated to all jeeps and land cruisers
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Raekwon) Dedicated to the Y's, 850-I's
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Ghost Face Killer) Dedicated to niggas who do drive-bys
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Raekwon) Dedicated to the Lexus and the Ax
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Ghost Face Killer) Dedicated to MPV's phat!
(Can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Raekwon) Nigguh, yeah, yeah!
Verse Two: Ghostface Killer
Yo!
Kickin the fly cliches
Doin duets with Rae and A, happens to make my day
Though I'm tired of bustin off shots havin to rock knots
Runnin up in spots and makin shit hot
I'd rather flip shows instead of those
Hangin on my living room wall
My first joint, and it went gold
I want to lamp, I want to be in the shade
Plus the spot light
Gettin my dick rubbed all night
I wanna have me a phat yacht
And enough land to go and plant my own sess crops
But for now, it just a big dream
Cause I find myself in the place where I'm last seen
My thoughts must be relaxed
Be able to maintain
Cause times is changed and life is strange
The glorious days is gone, and everybody's doin' bad
Yo, mad lives is up for grabs
Brothers, passin away, I gotta make wakes
Receivin all types of calls from upstate
Yo, I can't cope with the pressure
Settlin for lesser
The god left lessons on my dresser
So I can bloom and blossom, find a new way
Continue to make hits with Rae and A
Sunshine plays a major part in the daytime
[Peace to mankind Ghostface carry a black nine, nigga
Word up
It's on like that]
[Can it be that it was all so simple then]
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuthing Ta F' Wit-
Intro: RZA
[Tiger style]
[Tiger style] Tiger style
Yo, huh, huh
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit
Wu-Tang Clan Ain't Nuttin Ta Fuck Wit
There's noplace to hide once I step inside the room
Dr. Doom, prepare for the boom
BAM! Aw, MAN! I SLAM
JAM, that's freedom like Tarzan
Verse One: RZA
I be tossin, enforcin, my style is awesome
I'm causin more Family Feud's than Richard Dawson
And the survey said -- ya dead
Fatal Flying Guillotine chops off your fuckin head
MZA who was that? Aiyyo, the Wu is back
Makin niggaz go BO BO!, like on Super Cat
Me fear no-one, oh no, here come
The Wu-Tang shogun, killer to the eardrum!
Verse Two: Inspector Deck
I puts the needle to the groove, I gets rude
And I'm forced to fuck it up
My style carries like a pickup truck
Across the clear blue yonder
Seek the China Sea, I slam tracks like quarterbacks sacks from L.T.
Now why try and test, the Rebel INS?
Blessed since the birth, I earth-slam your best
Cause I bake the cake, then take the cake
And eat it, too, with my crew while we head state to state!
Chorus: RZA
And if you want beef, then bring the ruckus
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with
Straight from the motherfucking slums that's busted
Wu-Tang Clan ain't nuttin ta fuck with
Interlude: RZA
Hyah!
Step up, boy!
Represent!
Chop his head off, kid!
Verse Three: Method Man
The Meth will come out tomorrow,
Styles, is wild, berserk, bizarro
Flow, with more afro than Rollo
Comin to a fork in the road which way to go just follow
Method, the Legend, niggaz is Sleepy Hollow
In fact I'm a hard act to follow
I dealt for dolo
Bogart comin on through
Niggaz is like "Oh, my God, not you!"
Yes, I, Come to get a slice of the punk and the pie
Rather do than die, check my
Flava, comin from the RZA
Which is short for the razor
Who make me reminisce true like Deja
Vu! I'm rubber, niggaz is like glue
Whatever you say rubs off me sticks to you
[Chorus & shout outs]
Clan in Da Front-
Intro: RZA
Up from the 36 Chambers...
Heheh.. it's the Ghost..*Face*..*Killahh* Hehheheh
Wu-Tang
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm
Wu-Tang Killa Beez, we on a swarm
The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, U-God
Ghost Face Killer, the Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, the Master Killer
Raw Desire, LeVon, Power Cipher
Twelve O'Clock, Sixty Second Assassin, the 4th Disciple
The Brand White
K.D. the Down Low Wrecka, Shyheim AKA The Rugged Child
Doo-Doo Wales, Mista Hezakiah -- better known as the Yin and the Yang
The Tru Masta, Asan, DJ Skane, The Tru Robocop comin thru
Scientific Shabazz, my motherfuckin man Wise the Civilized
The Shaolin Soldiers, Daddy-O and Popa Ron
Comin down from the motherfuckin South end of things
Killa beez all over your fuckin planet
Thirty-six chambers of death
Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles
Choppin off your motherfuckin dome...
...peace, and every fuckin borough
Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island
The motherfuckin Bronx, killa beez....
*The sword?
C'mon, give him the sword*
Chorus: The Genius
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death
Now hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to...
Verse One:
The Wu is comin thru, the outcome is critical
Fuckin wit my style, is sort of like a Miracle
on 34th Street, in the Square of Herald
I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald --
-- ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow
Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow
and shine shine shine like gold mine
Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballentine
Pass the bone, kid pass the bone
Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the GZA
One who just represent the Wu-Tang click
With the game and soul, of an old school flick
Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids
Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids
so stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin own
I'll hang your ass with this microphone
Make way for the merge of traffic
Wu-Tang's comin thru with Full Metal Jackets
God squad that's mad hard to serve
Come frontin hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves
Chorus
Verse Two:
The response while I bomb that ass, "You ain't shit!"
Your wack ass town had you gassed
Egos is somethin the Wu-Tang crush
Souped up niggaz on a stage get rushed
I don't give a god damn, on the shows you did
How many rhymes you got, or who knows you kid?
Cuz I don't know ya therefore show me what you know
I come sharp as a blade and I cut you slow
You become so Pat as my style increases
What's that in your pants ahhh human feces!
Throw your shitty drawers in the hamper
Next time come strapped with a fuckin Pamper
How ya sound B? You're better off a quitter
I'm on the mound G, and it's a no-hitter
And my DJ the catcher, he's my man
Anyway he's the one who devised the plan
He throws the signs I hook up the beats with clout
I throw the rhymes to the mic and I strike em out
So it really doesn't matter on how you intrigue
You can't FUCK with those in the major leagues
Chorus -- 2X
Hoods on the right
Punks in the back... to what
Niggaz on the left
Hoods on the right
Punks in the back, c'mon... to what
...let your feet stomp
...brag shit to death
...wild for the night
(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)
(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)
(Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu, Wu)
Niggaz on the left, brag shit to death
Hoods on the right, wild for the night
Punks in the back, c'mon and attract to
Clan in da front, let your feet stomp
C.R.E.A.M.-
Intro: Raekwon the Chef, Method Man
What that nigga want God?
Word up, look out for the cops [Wu-Tang five finger shit]
(Cash Rules) Word up, two for fives over here baby
Word up, two for fives them niggaz got garbage down the way, word up
KnowhatI'msayin?
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me
C.R.E.A.M. get...)
Yeah, check this ol fly shit out
Word up
(Cash Rules Everything Around Me) Take you on a natural joint
(C.R.E.A.M. get the money) Here we here we go
(dolla dolla bill y'all) Check this shit, yo!
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef
I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side
Staying alive was no jive
At second hands, moms bounced on old men
So then we moved to Shaolin land
A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose
Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot
And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one
And that one, pullin out gats for fun
But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend
Started smokin woolies at sixteen
And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes
Making my way on fire escapes
No question I would speed, for cracks and weed
The combination made my eyes bleed
No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all
Sticking up white boys in ball courts
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater
Times is ruff and tuff like leather
Figured out I went the wrong route
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out
Catchin keys from across seas
Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's
Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine
Ch-chick-POW! Move from the gate now
Chorus: Method Man
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
C.R.E.A.M.
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Verse Two: Inspector Deck
It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin
Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival
I peep at the shape of the streets
And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep
A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M.
Which failed; I went to jail at the age of 15
A young buck sellin drugs and such who never had much
Trying to get a clutch at what I could not... could not...
The court played me short, now I face incarceration
Pacin -- going up state's my destination
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us
Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff
But as the world turns I learned life is hell
Living in the world no different from a cell
Everyday I escape from Jakes givin chase, sellin base
Smokin bones in the staircase
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess
I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed
But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth?
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth
Who explained working hard may help you maintain
to learn to overcome the heartaches and pain
We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks
and stray shots, all on the block that stays hot
Leave it up to me while I be living proof
To kick the truth to the young black youth
But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin beer
And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear
Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted
That what? That life is hectic
Outro:
Chorus -- 4X
Niggas gots to do what they gotta do, to get a bill
YaknowhatI'msayin?
Cuz we can't just get by no more
Word up, we gotta get over, straight up and down
Chorus -- 3X
Cash Rules Everything Around Me
C.R.E.A.M.
get the money
Dolla dolla bill y'aauhhhaaaauhhhhahhhauhhhhll, YEAH
Method Man-
Intro Part One: Method Man (album version)
Yeahhh, torture motherfucker what?
[Torture nigga what?]
What?
I'll fuckin
I'll fuckin tie you to a fuckin bedpost
with your ass cheeks spread out and shit
Right?
Put a hanger on a fuckin stove and let that shit sit there
for like a half hour
Take it off and stick it in your ass slow like
Tssssssss
[Yeah, I'll fuckin
Yeah I'll fuckin lay your nuts on a fuckin dresser
Just your nuts layin on a fuckin dresser
And bang them shits with a spiked fuckin bat]
Ooooohhhh
[Whassup? BLAOWWW!!]
I'll fuckin
I'll fuckin pull your fuckin tongue out your fuckin mouth
and stab the shit with a rusty screwdriver, BLAOWW!!
[I'll fuckin]
[I'll fuckin
I'll fuckin hang you by your fuckin dick
off a fuckin twelve sto-story building out this motherfucker]
I'll fuckin
I'll fuckin
sew your asshole closed, and keep feedin you
and feedin you, and feedin you, and feedin you
Intro Part Two: Genius (all versions)
[Yo, roll the dice, yo roll the dice
Yo, so it's going down like that, huh? Yeah?
Niggaz is whylin, check it out kid]
From the slums of Shaolin, Wu-Tang Clan strikes again
The RZA, the GZA, Ol Dirty Bastard, Inspectah Deck, Raekwon the Chef
U-God, Ghost Face Killer and the Method Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
Verse One:
Hey, you, get off my cloud
You don't know me and you don't know my style
Who be gettin flam when they come to a jam?
Here I am here I am, the Method Man
Patty cake patty cake hey the method man
Don't eat Skippy, Jif or Peter Pan
Peanut butter, cuz I'm not butter
In fact I snap back like a rubber
band, I be Sam Sam I am
And I dont eat green eggs and ham
Style will hit ya, wham!, then goddamn
You be like oh shit that's the jam
Turn it up now hear me get buckwu-wu-wild
I'm about to blow light me up
Upside downside inside and outside
Hittin you from every angle there's no doubt
I am, the one and only Method Man
The master of the plan wrappin shit like Saran
Wrap, with some of this and some of that
Hold up (what?) I tawt I taw I putty tat
Over there, but I think he best to beware
Of the diggy dog shit right here
Yippy yippy yay yippy yah yippy yo
Like Deck said this aint your average flow
Comin like rah ooh ah achie kah
Tell me how ya like it so far baby paw
The poetry's in motion coast to coast and
Rub it on your skin like lotion
What's the commotion, oh my lord
Another corn chopped by the Wu-Tang sword
Hey hey hey like Fat Albert
It's the Method Man ain't no if ands about it
It's the Method
Break:
All right, y'all get ya White Owls, get ya meth, get ya skins
Don't forget your fourty
And we gonna do it like this
I got, fat bags of skunk
I got, White Owl blunts
And I'm about to go get lifted
Yes I'm about to go get lifted
I got, myself a fourty
I got, myself a shorty
And I'm about to go and stick it
Yes I'm about to go and stick it
Verse Two:
Uhh
H-U-F-F huff and I puff
Blow like snow when the cold wind's blowin
Zoom, I hit the mic like boom
Wrote a song about it like to hear it here it goes
Question what exactly is a panty raider
Ill behaviour savior or major flavor
All of the above oh yeah plus I do so
Also flam I'm the man call me super
Not an average Joe with an average flow
Doing average things with average hoes
Yo I'm super I'll make a bitch squirm
For my, Su-per Sperm (check it)
Check it I give it to ya raw butt naked
I smell sess pass the Method
Let's get lifted as I kick ballistics
Missles and shoot game like a pistol
Clip is loaded when I click bang dang
A Wu-Tang slug hits your brain
J-U-M-P jump and I thump
Make girls rumps like pump and Humpty Hump
Wow, the Shaolin style is all in me
Child, the whole damn isle is callin me
P-A-N-T-Y-R-A-I-D-E-R mad raw I don't cry
Meaning no one can burn or toss and turn me
Ooh I be the super sperm
Chim chimmeny chim chim cherie
Freak a flow and flow fancy free
Now how many licks does it take
For me to hit the Tootsie Roll center of a break
Peep and don't sleep the crews mad deep Wu-Tang
Fadin motherfuckers like bleach
So to each and every crew
You're clear like glass I can see right through
You're whole damn posse be catchin em all cause you vic'd
and ya didnt have friends to begin with
I'm
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
Here I am, here I am, the Method Man
Outro: RZA
Straight from the slums of Shaolin
Wu-Tang Killa B'z on a swarm
[Your soul have just been taken through the 36 chambers of death, kid]
*coughing*
[Word to mother, Method Man signing off, peace]
