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9 Milli Bros.

Bob Digi, U-G-O-D, Raekwon

The Chef, the Inspektah Deck

M-E-T-H-O-D the B-O-B-B

(The Man)

Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA

The Genius, it's the Ol' D-d-dirty Bastard

One, two, one, two

(Killer Beats)

Turn it up, turn it up

The headphones, turn it up

Yo, you hear me?

(Yeah, whut up Toney?)

W'sup Don' Don'

(All the way up)

You know how we do

(Let's get this paper together)

You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh, huh

(That's right, c'mon nigga)

That's as far as it goes?

Sound about to go off on some real live

Wu shit, uh, huh

(WTC, Ghost-face)

Lemme give y'all the bullshit

Hook for y'all niggas, check it out

The burners in the stash, we about the cash

We got females that got it like that

The golden child's that bone the crowd

See niggas in the place that bit my style

Well I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers

Wu-Tang got the answer

'Cuz if I had a chance to do it again

I will still keep the heat in my pants, uh

Y'all be nice to the crack heads, everybody listen up

I shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enough

Word life to big screen Don, tapping dust-bones out

With star-writers like I fucked Celine Dion

Stuck everything that's the God's honest beyond

We airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we on

Official Wu-Tang head-banger

Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka

Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big part

Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks

Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose

Yellow suede one matching hat with the gray gun

Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up

We all wore down y'all broke niggas stay frontin'

Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jury on

Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin'

Two of my silver-backs fun through a pack of your wolves

Front on react and sippin' Cognac so relax dude

Know I'm with these cracks dude

Yo, one, two

Yo, Dirt McGirt, solid tone smith with fifth shots

Lick shots, leave your head like a Shaolin monk with six dots

Brooklyn, zoo, zoo

Brooklyn, zoo, zoo

It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor

Smash pretty boy niggas, crush they karma

Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage

My whole crew's fresh out the bars

Diggler, a.k.a The Cab Driver

Drop him off in the middle of fire

Dirty Island, drag bodies to the murder land

Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand

I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners

Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us

Staten's where the war is

Where the court system's running out of warrants

Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus

For real I can't call it

You see I love Lucy 'cuz she Lawless

She's exactly like that 10304 is

Snitch niggas swallow your tongue

Already know the island I'm from

And y'all don't want no problems with them

We got a history, full of lightning victories

Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery

Long vision, from giants in every way

Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day

From the East to the Ville, from the West to the hills

Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills

From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous

They hit 'em fast, with an effortless performance

MCs start fleeing in flocks

Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock

We grindin', down to the bone my name grounded in stone

I'm Mr Violence we loungin' with Chrome

Mr Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome

Shining like a hundred thousand in stones

Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero

160, my song, we throwin' elbows

The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings

Only dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens

Yeah we wild like rock stars who smash guitars

Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't Ghost

It's no joke, iron coat, rifle with a scope

One toke, brains float, shot to the throat

Before the smoke hit, witness the killing

Southern crime scene, body on the block

Eyes open from the shock of being popped in the neck

Yet he's still hella lit cigarette between his fingers

Danger when you step into the chamber with the master

Disaster, gotta blast ya, 'cuz I have ta

The rat pack is back from the Island of Stat'

Leave you cursed us 'cuz you worship the gat

The first one to snap drunk off your Smirnoff

Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss

Handcuffed to the turntables like Wizard Theodore

See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces

Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers

You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast

That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash

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