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words to live by...

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Killa beez all over your fuckin planet

Thirty-six chambers of death

Three-hundred and sixty degrees of perfected styles

Choppin off your motherfuckin dome...

...peace, and every fuckin borough

Crooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Staten Island

The motherfuckin Bronx, killa beez....

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... I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side

Staying alive was no jive

At second hands, moms bounced on old men

So then we moved to Shaolin land

A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, 'Lo goose

Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot

And let's start it like this son, rollin with this one

And that one, pullin out gats for fun

But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend

Started smokin woolies at sixteen...

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I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward

I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword

So how you figure that you can even fuck with mine?

Hey, yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!

And pull a foul, niggaz save the beef on the cow

I'm milkin this ho, this is MY show, tical

The FUCK you wanna do? More than Spike Lee's Do

I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root

PLO style, buddha monks with the owls

So who's the fucking man? Meth-Tical

On the chessbox

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Slammin a hype-ass verse til ya head burst

I ramshack dead in the track, and that's that

Rap assassin, fastin, quick to blast and hardrock

I ran up in spots like Fort Knox!

I'm hot, top notch, Ghost thinks with logic

Flashback's how I attacked your whole project

I'm raw, I'm rugged and raw! I repeat, if I die

My seed'll be ill like me

Approachin me, you out of respect, chops ya neck

I get vexed, like crashing up a phat-ass Lex'

So clear the way, make way, yo! Open the cage

Peace, I'm out, jettin like a runaway slave

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The way I make the crowd go wild, sit back relax won't smile

Rae got it goin on pal, call me the rap assassinator

Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger

And I'ma get mad deep like a threat, blow up your project

Then take all your assets

Cause I came to shake the frame in half

With the thoughts that bomb, shit like math!

So if ya wanna try to flip go flip on the next man

Cause I grab the clip and

Hit ya with sixteen shots and more I got

Goin to war with the meltin pot hot

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The Wu is comin thru, the outcome is critical

Fuckin wit my style, is sort of like a Miracle

on 34th Street, in the Square of Herald

I gamed Ella, the bitch caught a Fitz like Gerald --

-- ine Ferraro, who's full of sorrow

Cuz the hoe didn't win but the sun will still come out tomorrow

and shine shine shine like gold mine

Here comes the drunk monk, with a quart of Ballentine

Pass the bone, kid pass the bone

Let's get on this mission like Indiana Jones, the GZA

One who just represent the Wu-Tang click

With the game and soul, of an old school flick

Like the Mack and Dolemite, who both did bids

Claudine went to Cooley High and had mad kids

so stop, the life you save may be your motherfuckin own

I'll hang your ass with this microphone

Make way for the merge of traffic

Wu-Tang's comin thru with Full Metal Jackets

God squad that's mad hard to serve

Come frontin hard, then Bernhard Goetz what he deserves

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