Yo, this is a Wu-Banger two thousand and one noise maker
|
off the hook guerilla anthem
|
This is DJ Kay Slay, from around the way
|
And I'll smack the shit outta any of you DJ's
|
that front on this shit.. think I'm playin?
|
|
[Hook x2 (Method Man)]
|
I heard you ladies got them Thang Thangs
|
Do you really?
|
I heard you niggas like to bang bang
|
Do you really?
|
|
[StreetLife]
|
I never been a fan of the fame
|
I got love for the game
|
Never lust for the dames
|
I got dust in my veins
|
Hit 'em off in the brain
|
Kid talks but its lame
|
Sniffed a little blow with the rap Eddie Kane
|
Spent a lot of dough, its so hard to explain
|
And i fucked a lot of bitches off the strength of the name
|
Wu Tang see me in the next Lex with the game
|
Snowboarding down a ski range, its a blue and grey frame
|
Keep, pointing the finger, I'm that nigga to blame
|
The main reson why you duck the chain
|
Self proclaimed, got a lotta profit to gain
|
And I'm leaving the rap game the same way I came
|
|
[Method Man]
|
Now creep with me, as I roll through the Stat
|
Little Meth got my back, little pinky fat-fat
|
Let me hit that (draws), contact, learn how to act
|
Before you bring that drama the end; I'll fade to black
|
Positive, I hate kids who tell me lies
|
Despise guys that wanna get high but never buy
|
Got 9 lives, 9 wives that dont listen
|
Bitchin' their biological clocks is tickin'
|
Wu limited edition hot off the presses
|
I guess its, curtains for competition
|
Method, runnin' 'em out, gun in my mouth
|
The kid your momma warned you about, tear down the house
|
After midnight eatin' emcees chase through suburbia
|
You tremblin', behind a crumblin' wall, surrenderin'
|
Thats what you get, for rushin' in the direction I was bustin'
|
Polish your sword, your shit is rustin'
|
|
[Hook x2]
|
|
[Masta Killa]
|
1,2, testin', testin', mic check wreckin'
|
Step into the session
|
Automatic weapon off safety
|
Dont play me
|
Butt brings all them things with silencers
|
My clans liver than your average '85er
|
Strive to stay alive
|
I play for keeps in the streets
|
Cos its real on the battlefield
|
Shells hit the ground from the steel
|
Bullets travel, sun set fire to your mind
|
Words combine when I rhyme to feed the blind
|
Prepare my queen for battle and walk down
|
I drink from the wine of violence, no tolerance
|
Game word bond, sword silenced
|
Me in military fatigues bulletproof underneath
|
Buy enough ammunition,go round and sweep the streets
|
Of Brooklyn, Central, sugar-whipped the rental
|
While I'm lickin out the window at y'all
|
Fuck y'all
|
|
[Hook x2]
|
|
[Inspectah Deck]
|
Yo,
|
We thrive on street life
|
We strive to eat right
|
They blindin' these sight
|
We tried to be nice
|
They talk the small talk
|
We walk the long walk
|
We lost, they all thought
|
They forced to fall short
|
We rock for hard rock
|
Rocked the hot blocks
|
Shop and cop rocks
|
Watch the top notch in action
|
Begin to make your head spin
|
Wu Tang my bredren
|
We bang like veterans
|
They came for record spins, taste the medicine
|
Or face the double M, we came to trouble them
|
Hustle them for their 20 mill then buckle them
|
Enough to spin out the blue, bitches lovin' them
|
Dozen men with force of a hundred-ten
|
Stumblin' thug passions, it must've been
|
|
[Hook x4]
|
|
-----------------
|
Do You Really (Thang Thang)
|
| Wu Tang Clan |
