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作词 : Wu Tang Clan |
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"So what's up man? |
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Cooling man" |
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"Chilling chilling?" |
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"Yo you know I had to call, you know why right?" |
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"Why?" |
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"Because, yo, I never ever call and ask, you to play something right?" |
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"Yeah" |
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"You know what I wanna hear right?" |
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"What you wanna hear? |
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I wanna hear that Wu-Tang joint" |
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"Wu-Tang again?" |
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"Ah yeah, again and again!" |
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Wu-Tang Clan coming at you, protect your neck kid, so set it off the Inspector Deck |
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watch your step kid |
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I smoke on the mic like smoking Joe Frazier |
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The hell raiser, raising hell with the flavor |
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Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan |
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Swinging through your town like your neighborhood Spiderman |
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So uhh, tic toc and keep ticking |
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While I get you flipping off the shit I'm kicking |
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The Lone Ranger, code red, danger! |
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Deep in the dark with the art to rip charts apart |
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The vandal, too hot to handle |
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you battle, you're saying Goodbye like Tevin Campbell |
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Roughneck, Inspector Deck's on the set |
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The rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal |
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The way I make the crowd go wild, sit back relax won't smile |
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Rae got it going on pal, call me the rap assassinator |
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Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger |
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And I'm gonna get mad deep like a threat, blow up your project |
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Then take all your assets |
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Cause I came to shake the frame in half |
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With the thoughts that bomb, shit like math! |
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So if you wanna try to flip go flip on the next man |
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Cause I grab the clip and |
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Hit you with sixteen shots and more I got |
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Going to war with the melting pot hot |
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It's the Method Man for short Mr. Meth |
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Moving on your left, ah! |
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And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat |
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I wanna break full, cock me back |
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Small change, they putting shame in the game |
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I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame |
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And like Fame, my style'll live forever |
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Niggaz crossing over, but they don't know no better |
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But I do, true, can I get a "sue" |
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Nuff respect due to the one-six-oh |
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I mean oh, you check out the flow |
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like the Hudson or PCP when I'm dusting |
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Niggaz off because I'm hot like sauce |
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The smoke from the lyrical blunt makes me |
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Oh, what, grab my nut get screwed |
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Ow, here comes my Shaolin style |
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Sloop, B. A. Buh-B. Y. U |
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to my crew with the "sue" |
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watch your step kid |
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c'mon baby baby c'mon |
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Yo, you best protect your neck |
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First things first man you're fucking with the worst |
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I'll be sticking pins in your head like a fucking nurse |
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I'll attack any nigga who's slack in his mack |
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Come fully packed with a fat rugged stack |
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Shame on you when you stepped through to |
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The Ol Dirty Bastard straight from the Brooklyn Zoo |
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And I'll be damned if I let any man |
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Come to my center, you enter the winter |
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Straight up and down that shit packed jam |
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You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him man |
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The Ol Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinking |
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Ason, unique rolling with the night of the creeps |
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Niggaz be rolling with a stash |
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ain't saying cash, bite my style I'll bite your motherfucking ass! |
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For crying out loud my style is wild so book me |
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Not long is how long that this rhyme took me |
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Ejecting, styles from my lethal weapon |
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My pen that rocks from here to Oregon |
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Here's Mordigan, catch it like a psycho flashback |
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I love gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back |
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I come with shit that's all types of shapes and sounds |
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And where I lounge is my stomping grounds |
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I give a order to my peeps across the water |
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To go and snatch up props all around the border |
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And get far like a shooting star |
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'cause who I am is dim in the light of Pablo Escobar |
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Point blank as I kick the ****** biz |
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There it is you're fucking with pros and there it goes |
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You chill with the feedback black we don't need that |
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It's ten o'clock hoe, where the fuck's your seed at? |
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Feeling mad hostile, ran the apostle |
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Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel |
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Stroll with the holy roll then attack the globe with the buckus style |
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the ruckus, ten times ten men committing mad sin |
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Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fucking chin |
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Slaying boom-bangs like African drums （we'll be） |
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Coming around the mountain when I come |
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Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment |
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My clan increase like black unemployment |
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Yeah, another one dare, |
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Tuh-took a genius （to） take us the fuck outta here |
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The Wu is too slamming for these Cold Killing labels |
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Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel |
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Be doing artists in like Cain did Abel |
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Now they money's gettin stuck to the gum under the table |
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That's what you get when you misuse what I invent |
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Your empire falls and you lose every cent |
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For trying to blow up a scrub |
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Now that thought was just as bright as a 20-watt light bulb |
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Should've pumped it when I rocked it |
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Niggaz so stingy they got short arms and deep pockets |
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This goes on in some companies |
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With majors they're scared to death to pump these |
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First of all, who's your A&R |
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A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar |
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But he don't know the meaning of dope |
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When he's looking for a suit and tie rap |
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that's cleaner than a bar of soap |
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And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight |
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Matter of fact bring out the girls and let's have a mud fight |
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You best protect your neck |
