| Plush whips and rollies, ice chains and stogies
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| No bitch could hold me, in this Thug World
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| I hold it with the bolo grip, solo control the strip
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| Behold, P.L.O. |
| the click, man, it’s over with
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| So quick, notice how we bang with the knuckles bare
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| Wu-Tang, keep it fresh like tupper ware
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| The Jungle, Animal House, gat in your mouth
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| Polly with the wild life, cannibal out
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| Give this five course meal in effect, reel to reel or cassette
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| Or with the mask on, peelin' the tech
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| Killah Hill, man, you feelin' my set, feelin' my rep
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| And I’m met, with the top down, wheelin' the 'Vette
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| Scoop me downtown, cop the brown and back to the bids
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| Twist a blunt in front of Jake and still mash on the strip
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| Face sick with the rap shit, stacking them chips
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| In the pits, stick shit, cats packing them grips
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| Bad bitch with the black six, after my dick
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| She like, 'this your pussy,' then she splashed my clique
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| Not a fake, not a fraud, see my name on the wall
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| Niggas straight, like an inmate, try’nna make the board
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| Snake waiting, dudes came for sure, I lay law
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| Stay raw, cause a 'massacre' with no 'chainsaw'
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| Half y’all talk about it, but you don’t want war
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| See my wolves eat the bones and we still want more
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| We be foaming at the mouth, even, I doubt we leave without eating
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| So without reason, pounds are squeezing
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| The lifestyle of fiends and beans, big dreams and CREAM
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| Bitches ride like the Scream Machine
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| For a taste of it, the chicks strip, clean out the jeans
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| Next thing she was smuggling coke between the seams
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| + (RZA)
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| If real niggas is listening, the life we living in, is wrong
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| (Witty Wu-Tang is unpredictable, Witty Wu-Tang is unpredictable)
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| Back for transitions, to save us from harm
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| We in the race for time… so we won’t lose our mind
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| But if we run the race like a thug
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| We would lose that mind that we made of
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| You kept the weapon concealed like a magician’s secret dollar bill
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| Liable to pull a knife from out of his heel
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| Snatch the sword from the rock with one hand
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| One finger, bzzz, turn ya body to sand
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| You’ll be hoping you’d be Spidey, to get away from this
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| You be hoping you be whitey when the judge get pissed
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| One man, can’t uplift the land
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| Like Method Man standing on the hands of fans
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| See the Captain and Lieutenants, true descendant
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| Splendid, unprecedented, hip hop vintage
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| Started from the park benches, before the NARCs could snitch us
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| He was God Cypher Divine, trying to spark the wizards |