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Lyrics

So whassup, man?
Coolin', man
Chillin' chilin'? Yo, you know I had to call, you know why right?
Why?
Because, yo, I never ever call and ask you to play somethin', right?
Yeah
You know what I wanna hear, right?
Whatchu wanna hear?
I wanna hear that Wu-Tang joint
Wu-Tang again?
Ah, yeah, again and again

Wu-Tang Clan comin' at ya
Watch your step kid
Watch your step kid (protect ya neck kid)

Lyrics continue below...

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Watch your step kid (so set it off)
Watch your step kid
Watch your step kid

Watch your step kid (de Inspector Deck)
I smoke on the mic like "Smokin' Joe" Frazier
The hell raiser, raisin' hell with the flavor
Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan
Swingin' through your town like your neighborhood Spiderman
So uhh, tick-tock and keep tickin'
While I get ya flippin' off the shit I'm kickin'
The Lone Ranger, code red, danger
Deep in the dark with the art to rip charts apart

The vandal, too hot to handle
Ya battle, you're sayin' "Goodbye" like Tevin Campbell
Roughneck, Inspector Deck's on the set

The Rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal
The way I make the crowd go wild, sit back, relax, won't smile
Rae got it goin on pal, call me the rap assassinator
Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger
And I'ma get mad deep like a threat
Blow up your project, then take all your assets
'Cause I came to shake the frame in half
With the thoughts that bomb, shit like math

So if you wanna try to flip, go flip on the next man
'Cause I grab the clip and hit you with 16 shots and more I got

Goin' to war with the meltin' pot, akh
It's the Method Man, for short Mr. Meth
Movin' on your left, aah
And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat
I wanna break full, cock me back
Small change, they puttin' shame in the game
I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame
And like Fame, my style'll live forever
Niggaz crossin' over, but they don't know no better
But I do, true, can I get a "sue"
'Nough respect due to the one-six-ooh
I mean ohh, yo check out the flow

Like the Hudson or PCP when I'm dustin'
Niggaz off because I'm hot like sauce

The smoke from the lyrical blunt makes me, hu
Ooh, what, grab my nut, get screwed

Oww, here comes my Shaolin style
True B-A-ba-B-Y-U

To my crew with the "suuue"
Watch your step kid (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Watch your step kid (C'mon, baby baby, c'mon, baby baby)
Watch your step kid (C'mon, baby baby, c'mon)

Watch your step kid (Yo, you best protect ya neck)
First things first man you're fuckin' with the worst
I'll be stickin' pins in your head like a fuckin' nurse
I'll attack any nigga who's slack in his mack
Come fully packed with a fat rugged stack
Shame on you when you stepped through to
The Ol' Dirty Bastard straight from the Brooklyn Zoo
And I'll be damned if I let any man
Come to my center, you enter, the winter
Straight up and down that shit packed jam
You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him man

The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinkin'
Ason Unique rollin' with the night of the creeps
Niggaz be rollin' with a stash, ain't sayin' cash

Bite my style I'll bite your motherfuckin' ass
For cryin' out loud my style is wild so book me
Not long is how long that this rhyme took me
Ejectin' styles from my lethal weapon
My pen that rocks from here to Oregon
Here's more again, catch it like a psycho flashback
I love gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back
I come with shit that's all types of shapes and sounds
And where I lounge is my stompin' grounds
I give an order to my peeps across the water
To go and snatch up props all around the border

And get far like a shootin' star
'Cause who I are is livin' the life of Pablo Escobar
Point-blank as I kick the square biz

There it is, you're fuckin' with pros, and there it goes
Yo, chill with the feedback, black we don't need that
It's ten o'clock, hoe, where the fuck's your seed at?
Feelin' mad hostile, ran the apostle
Flowin' like Christ when I speaks the gospel
Stroll with the holy roll, then attack the globe with the buckus style
The ruckus, ten times ten men committin' mad sin
Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fuckin' chin
Slayin' boom-bangs like African drums (we'll be)
Comin' around the mountain when I come
Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment
My clan increase like black unemployment
Yeah, another one dare, G-Gka-Genius

Take us the fuck outta here
The Wu is too slammin' for these Cold Killin' labels
Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel
Be doin' artists in like Cain did Abel
Now they money's gettin' stuck to the gum under the table
That's what ya get when ya misuse what I invent
Your empire falls and you lose every cent
For tryin' to blow up a scrub
Now that thought was just as bright as a 20-watt light bulb
Should've pumped it when I rocked it
Niggaz so stingy they got short arms and deep pockets
This goes on in some companies
With majors, they're scared to death to pump these
First of all, who's your A&R?
A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?
But he don't know the meanin' of dope
When he's lookin for a suit-and-tie-rap
That's cleaner than a bar of soap
And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight
Matter of fact, bring out the girls, and let's have a mud fight
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck
You best protect ya neck

Writer(s): DIGGS ROBERT F, COLES DENNIS D

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