[RZA]
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All you hoes, be cryin for these bitches
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All you niggaz, be cryin for these hoes
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[scratched samples]
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"Both hands clusty" - Ghost, "Pullin out gats" - Raekwon
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"Double barreled" - Meth, "Blew off the burner kinda dusty" - Ghost
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"We back, don't test" - Raekwon, "Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth
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"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth
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"Math, let the plate spin" - GZA, "Many brothers y'all be sparkin"
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"Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot" - Inspectah Deck
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"If ya fuck with Wu, we gots ta fuck witchu" - Method Man
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[Ghostface Killah]
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Who the fuck knocked our buildings down?
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Who the man behind the World Trade massacres, step up now
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Where the four planes at huh is you insane bitch?
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Fly that shit over my hood and get blown to bits!
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No disrespect, that's where I rest my head
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I understand you gotta rest yours true, nigga my people's dead
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America, together we stand, divided we fall
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Mr. Bush sit down, I'm in charge of the war!
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[Inspectah Deck]
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Yes yes y'all, the I-N-S bless y'all
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Stop hearts like cholesterol, let's brawl
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Never fall, tear it down like a wreckin ball
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Role call where my niggaz that's one for all
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And all for one, we draw the guns on impulse
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Cash in the envelope, spend it on kinfolk
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Then smoke a ounce as we count mills
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Providin you pure ecstasy without pills
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[Chorus: Method Man]
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Y'all know the rules, we don't fuck with fools man
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How the fuck did we get so cool man?
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Never ever disrespect my crew
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If ya fuck with Wu we gots ta fuck witchu
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[Masta Killa]
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Y'all dogs better guard ya grills, it's all real
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We live from (?), it's the God I-Reelz
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Yo wonderful, spark the blillz
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Let me build with the people for the mills
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I'm rollin with the Rebel I-Ill from Killa Hill, peace to Brownsville
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Brothers that'll kill for the will of the righteous
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Twenty-five to lifers, true and livin snipers
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You wait like "Sixth Sense" 'til hard to kill
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[StreetLife]
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How you livin StreetLife? I'm surrounded by criminals
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Serial killers tote guns without the serial
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High-tech, street intellect, all digital
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Project original, sheisty individual
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New York's bravest, always supply you with the latest
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We hall of famers, and still hit you with the greatest
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Took a year hiatus, now you wanna hate us
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Thanks to all you haters for all the cream you made us
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[Chorus]
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[Raekwon the Chef]
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Sendin letters to (?), my cousin in Wendy's on Viacom
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At home, it's worth money, I adorns
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Order drinks, all real niggaz order your minks yo
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We got the fitteds on, lookin all fink
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Daddy everybody get money from now on
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Payday flash Visas livin like, Easter e'ryday
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Don't fuck Benz, rather a 430
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That shit that float through water, eyeball come up, drop birdies yo
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[Method Man]
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We can eat right, or we can clap these toys
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I'm with StreetLife, ain't never been a Backstreet Boy
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Who y'all kiddin? Tryin to act like my shoe fittin
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Confused with ya head up yo' ass like who's shittin?
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It's Hot Nixon, same team same position
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Battin average three-five-seven and still hittin
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Y'all still bitchin, still lame and still chicken
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I'm still here, one leg missin and still kickin
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Cause I'm haaaaaaaaaaaard! Hard like a criminal
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Love like a tennis shoe, throw slug to finish you
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It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth
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I can tell this motherfucker ain't Wu, look at his neck
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"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth
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"Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth - "Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang"
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[Method Man]
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It's Wu-Tang, rushin yo' gang, crushin the game
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Pretty thugs, clutchin they chain, hand cuppin they thang
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Who get strange, gassed up playin with flames
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Let a nigga take off his shades, see what I'm sayin is..
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Rules
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Wu Tang Clan |