Friction

Lyrics

[Intro: Inspectah Deck] Is you ready? Back by popular demand Murderous specialist tactics Wu-Tang Clan, no rehearsal or practice Niggas ain't ready for this Niggas ain't ready for this Niggas ain't ready for this [Verse 1: Inspectah Deck] Chrome dips beaming off July sunrays Caesar fade blending with the sideburn shade Cotton Club status, clientele, SL, heavy jewel Niggas jail, young niggas school well Swinging like Smokey on a slow beat Johnny Walker hold me closely as I mosey on the low key If you don't know me by now, you'll never know me You know me, I swing it to the youngins and the OGs Witnessed by notary public, certified rough shit Does it feel good, how was it? Gritty like the subway tracks My protocol permanent like graffiti on the project walls On the AWOL, alias Jamal Duval Roam through the Universe, plans of owning it all In the meantime, in between time, we shine Dangerous minds travel on this uphill climb [Chorus: Inspectah Deck] If you want some, get some This is it, son, this one, make 'em feel the friction Guaranteed hit, son, miss none Flip one, you better bring your big gun [Verse 2: Masta Killa] Some niggas I'd rather not spar minds with They can't stimulate my thoughts or fuck with Creative testosterone, mic'phone Calms the menopausable hormone quakage Trapped like estrogen, we making all of the above Supremely I hold my shit, men I rob I hesitate to stomp the come Bring water from the brain, nigga They tried to send me back, but still I came Terraform mind frame contains Elements of iron which begat steel, healing men life Allah Just brought me forth to bust mine This time I spare no one Poison sword seed technique, breathe the Earth Take the head of those and fade into the Universe Blessed with volts of electric life-threatening segments, it's hectic [Chorus: Inspectah Deck] If you want some, get some This is it, son, this one, make 'em feel the friction Guaranteed hit, son, miss none Flip one, you better bring your big gun [Verse 3: Inspectah Deck] Poetry in motion, east to west coasting Overseas blowing with lines tightly woven Still going full speed, pulling G's Tryna eat 'til my mouth gets too full to feed I excel, cast spells similar to Merlin Mic surgeon, hang like Dr. J. Erving Splurge inner city like uncensored version Merging with the fast lane, stained with the urban Word in the streets, his work was dirt cheap Synthetically weak, make the fans start beef Any comeback attempts would only be a repeat They soon fall off, be mentally lost beyond reach My technique's heat leave a permanent crease Plant my two feet, shooting with the quick release Never cease fire from a Streetcar Desire The sire, disturbing the peace with c-ciphers [Verse 4: Masta Killa] Who dare comes amongst and tries to peep it The secret of the deadly art, then leak it Snakes, leeches surround the righteous I lick a diversion shot Then slip with the swiftness to weave a raindrop Leaving the eye confused, understanding blurred Cloudy electrical storms occur From the Masta, classical head-bang slang The death toll rises like the blind and dumb Licking shots at the microphone, Iron Lung We the first to set off shit, last to run Who want some, come and get some, motherfucker! [Chorus: Inspectah Deck] If you want some, get some This is it, son, this one, make 'em feel the friction Guaranteed hit, son, miss none Flip one, you better bring your big guns