[Intro: RZA]
Yo, yeah check it... yo, yo yo yo
Yo, if you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose gets swolled up like Toucan
If you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose swollen up like Toucan
If you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose swollen up like Toucan Sam
And we don't give a damn
Bullets soaked in oil so the Tec can't jam
[Verse 1: RZA]
Sipping on Caribbean rum, coconut juice
Smoking on that chocolate stick, open up two
Bottles of that brass monkey on some drunkie [shit]
You R&B fake rappers suck a monkey's [dick]
I'm from back in the days, with the Christopher Hayes
On my back, striped out black
You like that? Seven rays in my head
My girl stays in the bed and she love to lay the eggs
[Verse 2: Masta Killa]
Prepare for the mic onslaught swift with the sword
Slick Lord, holding my weight home and abroad
The crowd roared for the peeps playing for the streets
I reaped and sewed, scriptures weaved and vowed
Behold gold for the people equal
Fresh on the weekend
Wu-Tang, Biggie Smalls live at the Beacon
Backstage drinks on the house the show was banging
Brothers Grey Goosing, Wu was Tanqueraying
Allah teaching schools in session, the Gods speaking
I'm just knowledging
Snake handshakes and fake hugs
Waiting for the hour to devour
And splatter ya heads to powder
I'm a slave to the rhythm
But never to a mental death and power
The hour has come
We got y'all eleven to one son
You done off, too late to break north
Tactics are hazardous to the health, bomb stealth
Rifle stay M-16, know what I mean?
Know what I mean?
Yo, yeah check it... yo, yo yo yo
Yo, if you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose gets swolled up like Toucan
If you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose swollen up like Toucan
If you think you can [fuck] with the Wu Clan
You get ya nose swollen up like Toucan Sam
And we don't give a damn
Bullets soaked in oil so the Tec can't jam
[Verse 1: RZA]
Sipping on Caribbean rum, coconut juice
Smoking on that chocolate stick, open up two
Bottles of that brass monkey on some drunkie [shit]
You R&B fake rappers suck a monkey's [dick]
I'm from back in the days, with the Christopher Hayes
On my back, striped out black
You like that? Seven rays in my head
My girl stays in the bed and she love to lay the eggs
[Verse 2: Masta Killa]
Prepare for the mic onslaught swift with the sword
Slick Lord, holding my weight home and abroad
The crowd roared for the peeps playing for the streets
I reaped and sewed, scriptures weaved and vowed
Behold gold for the people equal
Fresh on the weekend
Wu-Tang, Biggie Smalls live at the Beacon
Backstage drinks on the house the show was banging
Brothers Grey Goosing, Wu was Tanqueraying
Allah teaching schools in session, the Gods speaking
I'm just knowledging
Snake handshakes and fake hugs
Waiting for the hour to devour
And splatter ya heads to powder
I'm a slave to the rhythm
But never to a mental death and power
The hour has come
We got y'all eleven to one son
You done off, too late to break north
Tactics are hazardous to the health, bomb stealth
Rifle stay M-16, know what I mean?
Know what I mean?
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