Intro: The Genius/GZA (from "Clan in Da Front")
n***az on the left, brag sh** to d**h
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
n***az on the left, brag sh** to d**h
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 motherf**in notty-headed n***az
Word to the camoflouge large n***az
b**h n***az f**in my body
(where the fu*k is my bottle)
Bring that f**in meth in here
(Now we gonna drink some good Nightrain)
Yo yo yo yo
Verse One: Raekwon the Chef
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack you like a pit that lock sh** 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
k**er Bees attack, flippin what, murder one, phat tracks
A'ight? I kick it like a Night Flite!
Word life, I get that a** 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 n***az Garments
Save ya breath before I bomb it
Verse Two: Method Man
I be that insane n***a from the psycho ward
I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword
So how you figure that you can even f** with mine?
Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that sh** one time!
And pull a foul, n***az save the beef on the cow
I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical
The fu*k 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 f**ing 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 k**er, rap fanatic
Representing with the sk** 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 f**in charge when I explode
Verse Four: Ghostface k**er
Slammin a hype-a** verse til ya head burst
I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that
Rap a**a**in, 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-a** 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 j**els
While the meth got me open like falopian tubes
I bring d**h 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 ba*tard
Are you, uh, ah, uh
Are you a warrior? k**er? Slicin sh** like a samurah
The Ol' Dirty ba*tard VUNDABAH
Ol' Dirty clan of terrorists
Comin atcha a** like a sorceress, shootin' that PISS!
n***az be gettin on my f**in nerves
Rhymes they be kickin make me wanna kick they f**in a** 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 n***a back like a Dutch Master k**er
Style jumped off and k**a, 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
n***az seeing pink hearts, yellow moons
orange stars and green clovers