protect ya neck
Caller: "So whassup, man?"
DJ: "Coolin', man."
C: "Chillin' chilin'? Yo, you know I had to call, you know why right?"
DJ: "Why?"
C: "Because, yo, I never ever call and ask you to play somethin', right?"
DJ: "Yeah."
C: "You know what I wanna hear, right?"
DJ: "Whatchu wanna hear?"
C: "I wanna hear that Wu-Tang joint."
DJ: "Wu-Tang again?"
C: "Ah, yeah, again and again."
I smoke on the mic like "Smokin' Joe" Frazier
The hell-raiser, raisin' hell with the flavor
Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan
Swingin' through your town like your neighborhood Spider-Man
So uhh, tick-tock and keep tickin'
While I get ya flippin' off the shit I'm kickin'
The Lone Ranger, code red, danger
Deep in the dark with the art to rip the charts apart
The vandal, too hot to handle
You battle, you're sayin' "Goodbye" like Tevin Campbell
Roughneck, Inspectah Deck's on the set
The Rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal
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 you wanna try to flip, go flip on the next man
'Cause I grab the clip and hit ya with 16 shots and more, I got
Goin' to war with the meltin' pot, akh
It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth
Movin' on your left, aah!
And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat
I wanna break full, cock me back
Small change, they puttin' shame in the game
I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame
And like Fame my style'll live forever
Niggas crossin' over, but they don't know no better
But I do, true, can I get a "suue"
Enough respect due to the one-six-ooh
I mean O, yo check out the flow
Like the Hudson or PCP when I'm dustin'
Niggas off, because I'm hot like sauce
The smoke from the lyrical blunt make me *cough*
Ooh, what, grab my nut, get screwed
Oww, here comes my Shaolin style
True B-A-ba-B-Y-U
To my crew with the "suuuuue"
Yeah, yeah, yeah
C'mon, baby baby, c'mon, baby baby
C'mon, baby baby, c'mon
Yo, you best protect ya neck
First things first, man, you're fuckin' with the worst
I'll be stickin' pins in your head like a fuckin' nurse
I'll attack any nigga who's slack in his mack
Come fully packed with a fat rugged stack
Shame on you when you step through to
The Ol' Dirty Bastard straight from the Brooklyn Zoo
And I'll be damned if I let any man
Come to my center, you enter the winter
Straight up and down, that shit is packed jam
You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him, man
The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinkin'
Ason Unique rollin' with the night of the creeps
Niggas be rollin' with a stash, ain't sayin' cash
Bite my style, I'll bite your motherfuckin' ass
For cryin' out loud, my style is wild, so book me
Not long is how long that this rhyme took me
Ejectin' styles from my lethal weapon
My pen that rocks from here to Oregon
Here's more again, catch it like a psycho flashback
I love gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back
I come with shit that's all types of shapes and sounds
And where I lounge is my stompin' grounds
I give an order to my peeps across the water
To go and snatch up props all around the border
And get far like a shootin' star
'Cause who I are is livin' the life of Pablo Escobar
Point-blank as I kick the square biz
There it is, you're fuckin' with pros, and there it goes
Yo, chill with the feedback, black, we don't need that
It's 10 o'clock, ho, where the fuck's your seed at?
Feelin' mad hostile, ran the apostle
Flowin' like Christ when I speaks the gospel
Stroll with the holy roll, then attack the globe with the buckus style
The ruckus, ten times ten men committin' mad sin
Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fuckin' chin
Slayin' boom-bangs like African drums, we'll be
Comin' around the mountain when I come
Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment
My clan increase like black unemployment
Yeah, another one dare, G-Gka-Genius
Take us the fuck outta here
The Wu is too slammin' for these Cold Killin' labels
Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel
Be doin' artists in like Cain did Abel
Now they money's gettin' stuck to the gum under the table
That's what you get when you misuse what I invent
Your empire falls and you lose every cent
For tryna blow up a scrub
Now that thought was just as bright as a 20-watt light bulb
Should've pumped it when I rocked it
Niggas so stingy they got short arms and deep pockets
This goes on in some companies
With majors, they're scared to death to pump these
First of all, who's your A&R?
A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?
But he don't know the meanin' of dope
When he's lookin' for a suit-and-tie rap
That's cleaner than a bar of soap
And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight
Matter of fact, bring out the girls, and let's have a mud fight
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck