Wu-Tang Clan

Verse One: Ghostface Killah
Aiyyo I roll like a bat out of hell
Evil acapell's fly spittin out of my grill
Before I hit the sky with springtime colors
Juicy as a Sunkist, certain broads double dutch this
They carve it in they wrist, pales berry blazes
Straighten the crumbs left on the stove, clothes in my lady hair
Plus yours the look gold God, the old tainted bald technique
Got these vestibules designer niggaz in they whips
jumpin out they seats, eighteen, Bronzeman Part II
We like Dorothy Hamill on ice
We in your hood we might circle, hats down low in the Range
Switch lanes, change my tire, peel out
Real loud on the stage yo, I shitted on your hood kid
I shitted on your hood, got to your burner too late
I'm lookin real good, draped out
Shinin like a fresh fifty cent piece, your girlfriend, c'mere
Oh shit, you my man's niece, the gourmet pocket twenty
bombs made of clay, Sexcapades take place
We fucked in forty-eight shades might walk up in your studio
time slap your engineer, it's lighter fluid to that style
Hand me the matches now
Verse Two: Raekwon the Chef
Aiyyo rainbow Roley on the wrist, now what's this
Niggaz bless this, eight and a half, Bally banana twist
E shakes, puffin on lye, feedin the seed's plate
Pullin out, old dirty eights to rob gates
Major wake up, the kid telltales, make a nigga head wake up
Beats break, the nigga would take off his time
Honolulu status, gladdest
the rich rock cabbage and dollar vans grands
That nigga mad savage, stationary Hall of Justice
Niggaz came clumped out
Just came home, now they bunked out
Money be longer than triple life