Lyrics Ruckus in B Minor - Wu-Tang Clan

Ruckus in B Minor

Huh, after all these years, what you said was true
The Shaolin and the Wu-Tang is very dangerous
It’s the ODB kid, once again coming through your area.
And I’m going to tell you one time, you gon' love this
I had to get the money, said it wasn’t a choice
Die Hard’s on the bars, Ladies lovin' the voice
Morphine flow, numbing your joints
Bomb a nigga like he number 81 from Detroit
Zombie life, World War Z
Antidote to your virus, your highness, the world on me
Capital G, cool as the dude from Dos Equis
So deadly, I don’t make it rain, I snow heavy
Sick lane, Nic Cage how I ride with fire
Forever with bars, sort of like a lifer
With the Son of Anarchy, I be Breaking Bad
Walking Dead, day dreaming of making a band
Dancing With the Stars, Americans Idol me
The Mentalist with the Big Bang Theory
Still number one, still number one, still number one, one, one
Still number one, still number one, still number one, one, one
The most duplicated, anticipated, validated
Urban legends in the books with the ones who made it
Highly celebrated, everything was work related
Current top 40 got the Wu deep in all their business
20 years Killa Bees, yeah, we hold the pennant
Monumental stance on the cover with my co-defendants
Drop her sentence, in remembrance
Construct these jewels so they can live through my descendants
Younging, I can see your draws, pull your pants up
Can’t even call yourself a man until you man up
And if you call yourself a fan you need to stand up
This ain’t a party, it’s a jux, keep your hands up
And I don’t care who runs the city when the summer come
Your summer’s done, Wu forever, and we’re still number one
Picture a young nigga on the strip getting rich off the drug shit
Putting other niggas on, teaching ‘em thug shit
Then they want stick 'em up, then they get slugs quick
Hood-type niggas always living that crime life
Jealous-ass grimy niggas seeing the limelight
Slimy old nigga like fucking your man’s wife
Fool shouldn’t use the word brother, he man dyke
Yo, I spend my way all across New York
Get it out in all types of ice that you sport
One chain, two chain, three chain, four
Niggas mouth’s drop like the leaves in the fall
Tone got that WBC
I take off heavy in air ballons and land in the Fiji’s
That’s my bird and that’s my word
You faggots keep fucking around and get curbed
Forms circles like the rings of Saturn
Dust rocks and ice in a particular pattern
Then this fascinating picture has emerged from surface
A wonder of the young world with an urgent purpose
A wild fire engulfing every home
It’s history, chiseled and carved in every stone
A workshop where skills are learned
Handcrafted and drafted, written works our main concern
Urban center provided with a social structure
And a curious culture full of superconductors
Each stain is part of a scene with
Intricate geometric raps on a larger screen
Spell bounding, marvelous and it’s surrounding
Viewpoints remain the same, it’s all astounding
A place where the forgotten art is so powerful
A striking image is something that’s so valuable
This one’s the blackout!
Three-fifty-seven to your mouth!
GZA, this is called Ruckus In B Minor
Rae, all those bad times is behind us
Ghost, put that mask on to remind us
Method Man, let 'em know who’s New York’s finest
My lines is like Peruvian coke, go ahead and try one
My recipe is A1 remarkable with my mixture
Rainman mathematician, this city slicker
Finest threads cover my frame, the cloths of royalty
Strive with an army of winners and no pretenders
(*One*) We live free and achieve more
But first we gotta win with no stale mate
The all eye seeing is victorious biz to the sound man
All my trucks, tanks are bulletproof, been the truth
Loot the track, clear the booth, my thought ready, aim, shoot
My knowledge one twenty proof, let’s tear the roof off
Let’s spray, M-A-S-T-A
King I Love-Love club, pack stadium rock
I hold the mic snug, split a slug
Black ninja, mask and gloves