10G mics and shit Mics and men, books and pen Beats and rhymes, hooks and lines One time, where do we begin? The gritty rugged lands of Shaolin Where proud men went from moving cracked rocks To moving mountains, moving crowds and Making mothers proud now Walk out of places where our people wasn't allowed in I took a hi-hat, a snare and a kick drum A bass, a G note, turned it to a hit song And every week we made 40 G's Nigga please, kill the bees Pay a quarter mil for these MC's a night, aight I kick it like a night flight 25 years later, who thought that we could be greater The name of Wu-Tang is spread on both sides of the equator The resurrector grew to be a movie director Still smoke blunts with the meth and rock mics with the specter Still crash bars with Shalal And my brother Devon, he still pushed to fly his cars But he added a yacht to his repertoire And they marvel how the jitters still Cake with Tony Starks While the RZA and UGAR Still shake their fatal darts Capadonna, pot up in a hole inside your heart Jamal Areef pushed that chess piece across the board With the sound of a swore being released from his sheath And old dirty shimmy shimmy y'all from beneath And power still got that rugged gear in the streets It's Wu-Tang, mics and men We kill the bees, mathematics Stay kraftmatic on the beats I'm in the MKX with the opposite sex Trying to take it from the suburb Back to the projects Money, chicks, fast cars, that's my obsess I ain't obligated to nothing except contracts Honey through your dirty, niggas are still contacts I'm loving the babes daily, feeding them bubble baths Can't let nothing walk by with a bubble ass Get money, pop bottles, and we double the cash Slip barbershop over niggas that far by See Devon on the ocean in the yacht Flip money bags when that Hulu shit pop Farragumbo belt with the Gucci bop Yo, you can't tell me nothing about the Gucci opp When I was the one out there making the shit hot When you was in the spot, you was just a young snot I was in the ballgame, pitching the rod Wu-Tang forever, we always on grind Like that he told you, we ain't never gonna stop Man, have you not heard that one word given to have you missing? Listen to the fly piano Wu-Gambino, soprano Deck and Dino Owners of their own casino Where's the keynote? Start out my young Amari Flow hotter than the Kalahari Skipping off the rim of the snare Every rhyme line rich with alkaline Combined with the power of fine See my mind shine brighter than Einstein Shiloh pen bleed, Benadine It's my time, so run Tell a friend you can check it on Showtime It's Wu-Mike's demand Copyright © 2021 Mooji Media Ltd. All Rights Reserved. No part of this recording may be reproduced without Mooji Media Ltd.'s express consent.