Yo [yeah] Check it out son, check it out son Yo, [Wu, can I get a soo] live in the place to be You got the capital G G to the A-M-C Givin a mad shout out to the Ranch Crew from the old school And we gonna take y'all back, knowhatI'msayin? Lyrical sorcerors right here, the fathers, the cream of the crop son [Yo check it]
Chorus: The Genius
Well if you livin in the world today You be hearin the slang that the Wu-Tang say Niggaz that front we don't handle em So we blast em, alright, well OK
Well if you like the way it sound then clap man And if the women love it too well then raise your hands But only raise your hands if you're Sure [Meth] Punk niggaz shatter like a glass jaw, break it
Verse One: The Genius
My rhyme gross weight vehicle combination was too heavy for the Chevy's is chased out the station Double-edged was the guillotine that beheaded it gassed up, fuckin with some regular unleaded shit Heads roll on hillsides behind ropes that bind-in, X marks the spot on the scope Heavily armed military is necessary, it's a gamble MC's bet they best at every Powerful parable ditties might harm if tampered with, set off and strike like pipe bombs Flashbacks to the Duel of the Iron Mic Look out for these fatal flying spikes, of massive sleep-holds, put strangle on commercial angle Microphone cords tangled from being Star Spangled Now who could ever say they heard of this? My motherfuckin style is mad murderous