| Come on! |
| Yeah… yeah.
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| Yo, yo
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| Wu-Tang, we always in the Spot Lite
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| Get paper, every night is hot night
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| We stay tight, we just livin' our life
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| We just livin' our life
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| I drink till I’m drunk, smoke skunk with my stinkin ass, smell the funk
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| Eekin out the pours, cum stain, shitty drawers
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| Pissin' down ya elevators shaft, no class, writin graf' on ya walls
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| It be us, fuck ya law, nigga, my cause is «because»
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| No yin to my yang, it’s a black thing
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| Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains
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| Took the crack game applied it to the rap game, y’all
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| Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?
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| Get down with the syndrome: retarded
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| I think it was them swordsmen, place ya chess pieces on the boards and
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| Take it to square, this ain’t no Yacub affair
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| Or a New World Disorder, got us, fuckin the coal miner’s daughter
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| That y’all, but not us
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| Fly back, flag a cab and say «check ya»
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| Next time you see me, say peace and I’ll respect ya, Tical
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| Yo, lights, cameras, don’t forget the action
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| The needle skip, but the turntable scratchin'
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| Chain blow, bangles, heavy on the cashin'
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| Same old, Range rove', rainbow Manhattan
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| Craftmen, captive, still I’m avalanchin'
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| Holy war, handsome, break 'em off harassin'
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| Latest fashion, passion, bullets reign gashin'
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| Flippin' through frenzy, the same Wu-Tang
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| The Hollywood frame, purple haze stain
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| Rules of dame, fools, choose to bang
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| Nigga, you lose, Wu, bruise the game
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| A few men came, that really held weight
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| Drop, Chinese bars, stars in fifty-two states
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| Like, bats out of hell, we crash the gates
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| Without a base, left the gun powder case
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| Ladies chase, the hip-hop Babyface
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| Word up, throw your hands in the air, like you just don’t care
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| Wu-Tang in your atmosphere, everybody say «Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah»
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| Mic Capone, it’s best to avoid my strike zone
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| I zone and swing a sword that’ll slice stone
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| Nice clone, but you could never match the born master
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| Who tore back half the world, and still saught after by
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| Dick ridin' niggas, and chicks who do ditto
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| Singin' like the Four Tops, providin' info
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| See me low, through the Jeep window, the chrome spins slow
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| Gene-ral on the J.O., survival M. O
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| For now get wild, similar to Ol' Dirty
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| A third time felon just hit with over thirty
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| Note worthy style, have them so thirsty
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| First degree heat, you quittin' on me
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| Cold turkey, no mercy
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| Wu-Tang, put you in the Cobra Clutch, til you give up
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| Ya’ll can live up to, Witty Unpredictable
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| Street mentality, return of the cavalry
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| 36 Chambers, we off key block
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| Black on the block, tell ya D.J.'s to quit
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| M.C.'s, to stop that bullshit
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| Me, Ghost and Rae, we known to pull shit
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| Step with the brick, on some Ice Water shit
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| Wallo’s in all colors (now) let’s get chips, like
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| Robbin' the bank, pull up with the new whips
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| Don’t get mad, respect rank
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| No matter how you gettin' dough, give thanks
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| Everybody hold up your shanks |