Furious Anger Shyheim (Ft. Big L)

[Intro: Reporter, Samuel L. Jackson & Big L]
Shyheim, the youngest member of the Wu-Tang Clan, was jumped in a Staten Island club and his face still bares the scar
And you will know my name is the Lord
Shyheim, yeah
Corleone
Uh-huh, check it out

[Verse 1: Big L]
Y'all niggas be walkin' the streets iced out
Not knowin' the wolves'll put the price out
To get you stuck and put your lights out
Or catch your car at the light and snatch your wife out
And beat the ho up if you don't give the dough up
You got me pissed off, frontin' and your whole clique soft
If you had your Rollie on, I might cut your wrist off
Then lick off and slide your bitch off, punk
I hope you ready for the kick-off, this rap shit I'm gettin' rich off
I done sold coke, sold crack, sold smoke, sold smack
Now I want a gold plaque, can I get a soul clap?
It ain't no callin' time-out once I climb out
The garbage can with two 9s out and blow your spine out, uh
I got you cats by a long-shot, every song hot
1-3-9 and Lenox is a strong block
I left enough of y'all stinkin'
What the fuck was y'all thinkin'?
My shit tight, nigga, I spit right, nigga
Yo, what?