Wu-Tang Clan - Rules

RZA
All you hoes, be cryin for these girls
All you , be cryin for these hoes

scratched samples
"Both hands clusty" - Ghost, "Pullin out gats" - Raekwon
"Double barreled" - Meth, "Blew off the burner kinda dusty" - Ghost
"We back, don't test" - Raekwon, "Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth
"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth
"Math, let the plate spin" - GZA, "Many brothers y'all be sparkin"
"Stray shots, all on the block that stays hot" - Inspectah Deck
"If ya fk with Wu, we gots ta fk witchu" - Method Man

Ghostface Killah
Who the fk knocked our buildings down?
Who the man behind the World Trade massacres, step up now
Where the four planes at huh is you insane b*tch?
Fly that s**t over my hood and get blown to bits!
No disrespect, that's where I rest my head
I understand you gotta rest yours true, nigg* my people's dead
America, together we stand, divided we fall
Mr. Bush sit down, I'm in charge of the war!

Inspectah Deck
Yes yes y'all, the I-N-S bless y'all
Stop hearts like cholesterol, let's brawl
Never fall, tear it down like a wreckin ball
Role call where my that's one for all
And all for one, we draw the guns on impulse
Cash in the envelope, spend it on kinfolk
Then smoke a ounce as we count mills
Providin you pure ecstasy without pills

Chorus: Method Man
Y'all know the rules, we don't fk with fools man
How the fk did we get so cool man?
Never ever disrespect my crew
If ya fk with Wu we gots ta fk witchu

Masta Killa
Y'all dogs better guard ya grills, it's all real
We live from (?), it's the God I-Reelz
Yo wonderful, spark the blillz
Let me build with the people for the mills
I'm rollin with the Rebel I-Ill from Killa Hill, peace to Brownsville
Brothers that'll kill for the will of the righteous
Twenty-five to lifers, true and livin snipers
You wait like "Sixth Sense" 'til hard to kill

StreetLife
How you livin StreetLife? I'm surrounded by criminals
Serial killers tote guns without the serial
High-tech, street intellect, all digital
Project original, sheisty individual
New York's bravest, always supply you with the latest
We hall of famers, and still hit you with the greatest
Took a year hiatus, now you wanna hate us
Thanks to all you haters for all the cream you made us

Chorus

Raekwon the Chef
Sendin letters to (?), my cousin in Wendy's on Viacom
At home, it's worth money, I adorns
Order drinks, all real order your minks yo
We got the fitteds on, lookin all fink
Daddy everybody get money from now on
Payday flash Visas livin like, Easter e'ryday
Don't fk Benz, rather a 430
That s**t that float through water, eyeball come up, drop birdies yo

Method Man
We can eat right, or we can clap these toys
I'm with StreetLife, ain't never been a Backstreet Boy
Who y'all kiddin? Tryin to act like my shoe fittin
Confused with ya head up yo' as* like who's s**ttin?
It's Hot Nixon, same team same position
Battin average three-five-seven and still hittin
Y'all still moaning, still lame and still chicken
I'm still here, one leg missin and still kickin
Cause I'm haaaaaaaaaaaard! Hard like a criminal
Love like a tennis shoe, throw slug to finish you
It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth
I can tell this motherfker ain't Wu, look at his neck

"Comin from the thirty-six chamber" - Meth
"Bring it to em proper, potnah" - Meth - "Wu, Tang, Wu, Tang"

Method Man
It's Wu-Tang, rushin yo' gang, crushin the game
Pretty thugs, clutchin they chain, hand cuppin they thang
Who get strange, gassed up playin with flames
Let a nigg* take off his shades, see what I'm sayin is..

Chorus

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