[Intro: RZA & (GZA)]
Yo! (Yeah!)
Check it out, son, check it out, son
Yo! (Wu, can I get a suuu?)
Live in the place to be
You got the capital G, Z-to-the-A, MC
Givin' a mad shout-out to the Ranch Crew from the old school
And we gonna take y'all back, know what I'm sayin'?
Lyrical sorcerers right here
The fathers, the cream of the crop, son
Yo, check it
[Hook: GZA & RZA, Method Man]
Well, if you livin' in the world today
You be hearin' the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggas that front, we don't have 'em, so we blast 'em
Alright? Well, ok
Well, if you like the way it sound, then clap, man
And if the women love it too, well, then raise your hands
But only raise your hands if you're sure
Punk niggas shatter like a glass jaw! Break it
[Verse 1: GZA]
My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination
Was too heavy for the Chevy's, is chased out the station
Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it
Gassed up, fuckin' with some regular unleaded shit
Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that bind-in
X marks the spot on the scope
Heavily-armed military is necessary
It's a gamble, MC's bet they best at every
Powerful parable ditties might harm
If tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs
Flashbacks to the "Duel of the Iron Mic"
Look out for these fatal flyin' spikes, so massive
Sleep-holds put strangle on commercial angle
Microphone cords tangled from bein' Star Spangled
Now, who could ever say they heard of this?
My motherfuckin' style is mad murderous
Yo! (Yeah!)
Check it out, son, check it out, son
Yo! (Wu, can I get a suuu?)
Live in the place to be
You got the capital G, Z-to-the-A, MC
Givin' a mad shout-out to the Ranch Crew from the old school
And we gonna take y'all back, know what I'm sayin'?
Lyrical sorcerers right here
The fathers, the cream of the crop, son
Yo, check it
[Hook: GZA & RZA, Method Man]
Well, if you livin' in the world today
You be hearin' the slang that the Wu-Tang say
Niggas that front, we don't have 'em, so we blast 'em
Alright? Well, ok
Well, if you like the way it sound, then clap, man
And if the women love it too, well, then raise your hands
But only raise your hands if you're sure
Punk niggas shatter like a glass jaw! Break it
[Verse 1: GZA]
My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination
Was too heavy for the Chevy's, is chased out the station
Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it
Gassed up, fuckin' with some regular unleaded shit
Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that bind-in
X marks the spot on the scope
Heavily-armed military is necessary
It's a gamble, MC's bet they best at every
Powerful parable ditties might harm
If tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs
Flashbacks to the "Duel of the Iron Mic"
Look out for these fatal flyin' spikes, so massive
Sleep-holds put strangle on commercial angle
Microphone cords tangled from bein' Star Spangled
Now, who could ever say they heard of this?
My motherfuckin' style is mad murderous
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