[RZA] You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings No more said, knew your chump ass was dead When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary Microphone post tone like a rotary phone Age of poems and poetry, old sloans Explosive head bullets, black hooded Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips And know how to put it in you Surrender your goods and your merchandise For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist For your ice and curtains and vice Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety And lead them to defy me, diary... I need 18 points for my next joint This high and mointed king, to make a deal I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars And built with thousands of scholars My life saga from the hildred of horor Legal kid brown in Nicaragua Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections