Lyrics

[Verse 1: Raekwon] Call up the Hollow Bone Syndrome line Select suite 9, face this, watch his whole face lift Bracelets, murder niggas luxurious, banks I was draped Caked out, half a million dollars in coats Flows is genetic The Corleone connection in all selection Stock brokers with coats on make coke suggestions All twin glizzies, fireman Gucci boots on, sideways action Murder niggas' stereo Cash stackin' like Clinton, rentin' his mother crib out We sit and organize the Bill of Rights, get lit Drugs that Hendrix was on, conversatin' like the Dutch Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae Flows that blow thru your Roland, holdin' everybody down Trip up niggas, in clicks, we posin' Rock black half the year Half my niggas sittin' upstairs Takin' pictures of ya'll niggas' wack gear [Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)] Listen to the (Clap) Real niggas (Clap) Rich niggas (Clap) My bitches (Clap) If you love pussy, then y'all niggas (Clap) If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap) If you real fucked up, then ya'll niggas (Clap) If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap) Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all niggas (Clap) (Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap (Big shit, thunder!) Get around that! [Verse 2: Ghostface Killah] Yo – porcelain floors with a dog named Ginger Bottle cap niggas that rhyme, we the winners Then slide through your hood in hoods Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man, C. Woods Holdin' a gorilla, two niggas gotta hold that shit One shot and ya mans on it The little kids watch from down the block Jewelry box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the rare spots Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it Fuck bitches raw, why? 'Cause I'm a pro at it Big birds danglin' Cameras snatch, flash, then pop from every angle and 2000 Mark Damon'in [Chorus: Method Man] Clap ya hands now, clap Clap ya hands now, clap, clap Clap, clap ya hands now, clap Clap, clap ya hands now People, clap ya hands [Verse 3: Method Man] Yo, yo – I drink till I'm drunk Smoke skunk, with my stinkin' ass, smell the funk Eekin' out the pores, cum stain, shitty drawers Pissin' down ya elevator shaft, no class, writin' graff' on ya walls It be us, fuck ya law Niggas, my cause is "because" No yin to my yang, it's a Black thing Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains Took the crack game, applied that to the rap game, y'all Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest? Get down with the syndrome – retarded I think it was them swordsmen Pushin' chess pieces on the boards in Take it to the square, this ain't no Yakub affair Or a New World Disorder Got us–fuckin' the coal miner's daughter That y'all, but not us [Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)] Listen to the (Clap) Real niggas (Clap) Rich niggas (Clap) My bitches (Clap) If you love pussy, then y'all niggas (Clap) If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap) If you real fucked up, then ya'll niggas (Clap) If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap) Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all niggas (Clap) (Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap (Big shit, thunder!) Get around that! [Outro: kung-fu sample] During this time, I intend to teach you the Shaolin code The rules and commandments To void deceit, cruelty, and unkindness Always help the weak Never despise the poor Always respect yourself