I despise your killing, and raping

You're... despicable



Are you, my judge?



It's just... you should be punished

I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?



Verse One: U-God



Yo, yeah, yo, yo

Yo, yeah

Check these high hats sting things moving through the rubbish

Party robust, rec room style for you brothers

Time's ticking, eruptments conduct

Entering one funk before the drum dry up

Dial, style, jab vocab slow

Alphabet run, construction voice might blow

Tap dance swelling Hemingway novel model

For a breather, dirty reefer hide your bottle

Cut down, come with something that's round and profound

Blood brothers people of colors we get down

Watch this fly, force feed things being said

Nine Diagram acid black evil red left his

mic half a dangle, seriouser man

My mic clapper def wish, everlasting plan

heavenly God body, know me as the cleaner

Night champion, old villain style seem a

kiss of spider, to God saga why bother

Godfather talk drama, fly swatters



Number two, Chao San Poi



Verse Two: The Genius/GZA



This Wu shit be hard to kill and full blown

Rhymes filtered through the net before words hit the chrome

Pro tools editing tracks that's rough

Cause a jam without a live MC isn't enough

So we attack this, and grab all within reach

Throw a scrap back to niggaz - perfect your own speech

Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands

used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands

Niggaz look on, and get hooked on this mic line

Real thin and shift through the pipeline

LP's delivered with style and potential

Niggaz flowin smoothly in a sequential

order, revealin hidden tape recorders

Stashed inside pockets of those who lack aura



Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef



Twist the DAC up, them niggaz with math is back up

Watch he act up, fifty-two block track we slap up

Playground maneuver, jet to Vancouver like this

Two Kahluas one chick she's German Luger

Get the shit on, light a fresh pack, bust it open

with the seal on Dunn, deal on this, with the real on

Next, Rocky, ring, call it to Decatur

Slang soufleer home decorater, player

Mic immigrants, nine of us formed resemblance

Somethin flashy, God dead-armed is nasty

Peep the ornaments enough to make Shorty-Wop stare at me yo

He killed the God might as well throw a chair at me



Verse Four: Prince Rakeem/RZA



Yo MC's wonder what's hip-hop thunder

Tell you the truth it's just one nation under a groove

Gettin down for the funk of it

Like Fred Sanford in the biz...

Yo one held his paraphenalia, a Wu memorabilia

Mailed by the fortune teller, tried to tell ya

bout the group recruit we scoop up CREAM like Breyer's

Then spread across the globe like telephone wires

Thirty-six assorted, Shaolin imported

chambers been recorded, you're fuckin with the loops

Time for royalty audit

Fabulous establishment metabolism, Blackfoot Indian

Cherokee started out smaller than amphibian

Then grew to a physical body with five meridians

As the pendulum swings closer to the millenium

two thousand, wickedness is spread amongst my citizen

I got a muscle the industrial to make a hustle

and politic with Leo and Russell

When niggaz is still rushin we'll brush you



He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives



Verse Five: Masta Killa



Thoughts are contained in the trenches of the brain

ignite, blowin the mic to Arabian heights

As I recite this medley, niggaz couldn't fuck with the

deadly ground I hold down

Classical gangland style, shots hit the ceiling

Panic and confusion echoes through the building

Continuing to build, I strive for perfection

Driven by the will to live, glocks I hold

Shots I give, while searchers of rescue teams

look for means of survival and who's liable

for this harrowing experience

You scream for the extreme, fiend for the cap

and proceeds of the Wu-Tang Academy

To fuck up your anatomy with assault and battery



Number two, Chao San Poi

Number two, Chao San Poi

He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives



Number one, Yen Chang Wa

He's an adulterer, don't trust him

Number two, Chao San Poi

Number two, Chao San Poi

He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives



I despise your killing, and raping

You're... despicable



Are you, my judge?



It's just... you should be punished

I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?

I despise your killing, and raping

You're... despicable



Are you, my judge?



It's just... you should be punished

I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready