Wu​-​Tang Monkey Fist

by Irn Mnky / Wu-Tang Clan

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Wu-Tang Clan and affiliates over my own beats.
Linked with a narrative from the original film version of Iron Monkey.


released August 18, 2017

Irn Mnky
Wu-Tang Clan
Ghostface Killah
Method Man
Killah Priest
Sunz of Man
Notorious B.I.G.



Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.


Irn Mnky Huddersfield, UK

Producer from the UK.
Irn Mnky Recordings.

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Track Name: Rest In Da East [Gravediggaz]
[Intro: Frukwan]
Ahh, Gatekeeper
Grym Reaper
Peace to the Gods
Yo (east)

[Chorus x2: Frukwan]
Look before you start to speak
You're barkin up the wrong tree dog
I Rest in the East

Yo, runnin diligently, militantly
Lyrically a million degrees, niggas deadly
Lyrical work, dabble and dirt, gotta chase skirts
Offset the balance of the Earth
Niggas get crushed, rip it in half
Paragraphs, exodus, triplin my ripplin effect
Buildin collapse, maybe perhaps, strategically
A tactic, easily to over dap
Parallel verse, obvious verse, niggas disperse
Punish to hurt, fully torched New York
Terror dome, you're scared of my zone
Gravediggaz mothaf**ka, we're niggas, wear blood like cologne
Darker the tone, they're livin legit, clavicle wind
Lateral sin, step on the line, let's begin
Noteriaty but this society don't inspire me
Settin fires to mothaf**kas higher than me
Critical ritual, hit you with the mythodic
Hypnotic, chronic, a gas state to a solid
You can't allow the above, reachin my broth'
Chokin your ass, without my mothaf**kin gloves, nigga

[Chorus x4]

Yo, we used to knock them cats that floss a lot
When you talk a lot, then it could cost your knot
After the club get snubbed in parkin lots
Or your head will get thrown like cosmonauts
Rich forced out, we forced the glock
And enforced the block, you can eat chalk or rot
My heat is deep, and dark and hot
Dedicated to my niggas who spark a lot
It be the Grym Reaper, the king speaker
Reach deep in your thoughts with equal the force of a tornado
I go to war, lay low, write scripts like Plato
Back to the war, call NATO for the new treaty
Rap diety against the F.C.C.
Observatory tower, can't see me
The sharp shooter, who pierce darts through ya
Bring it right to ya head like shh, booya
Tony T.I. is anti-derogative
The chief operative, ready to flog a kid
Who doesn't acknowledge his, melanin background
WWF here comes the Smackdown

[Chorus x4]

I blast recklessly, terrorize the unseen
Impact, structural collapse
Hard consume, grow industrial
Coloured testicles, a festival
I kill you slow, nigga, yo
The deadliest Torture, the author enforcer
Slaughter a double crosser
East New Yorker's block (Oh yo yo yo) [smacking sounds]
Welcome to The Rock

If you fail the plan then plan the fail
To my mans in jail, I hand your bail
These fiends they still demand the sale
These Devils still command retail
The rebel in Grym provide the spark
To light the day and divide the dark
The ArchAngelic guides the thought
The Earth is held 'til we slide off

[Chorus x5]
Track Name: C.R.E.A.M. [Wu-Tang Clan]
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side
Staying alive was no jive
At second hands, moms bounced on old men
So then we moved to Shaolin land
A young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth, 'Lo goose
Only way, I begin to gee off was drug loot
And let's start it like this son, rollin' with this one
And that one, pullin' out gats for fun
But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend
Started smokin' woolies at sixteen
And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes
Making my way on fire escapes
No question I would speed, for cracks and weed
The combination made my eyes bleed
No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all
Sticking up white boys in ball courts
My life got no better, same damn 'Lo sweater
Times is ruff and tuff like leather
Figured out I went the wrong route
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out
Catchin' keys from across seas
Rollin in MPV's, every week we made forty G's
Yo nigga respect mine, or anger the tech nine
Ch-chick-POW! Wu from the gate now
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
It's been twenty-two long hard years of still strugglin
Survival got me buggin, but I'm alive on arrival
I peep at the shape of the streets
And stay awake to the ways of the world cause shit is deep
A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M.
Which failed I went to jail at the age of 15
A young buck sellin' drugs and such who never had much
Trying to get a clutch at what I could not, could not,
The court played me short, now I face incarceration
Pacin' going up state's my destination
Handcuffed in back of a bus, forty of us
Life as a shorty shouldn't be so ruff
But as the world turns I learned life is hell
Living in the world no different from a cell
Everyday I escape from Jakes givin' chase, sellin' base
Smokin' bones in the staircase
Though I don't know why I chose to smoke sess
I guess that's the time when I'm not depressed
But I'm still depressed, and I ask what's it worth?
Ready to give up so I seek the Old Earth
Who explained working hard may help you maintain
To learn to overcome the heartaches and pain
We got stickup kids, corrupt cops, and crack rocks
And stray shots, all on the block that stays hot
Leave it up to me while I be living proof
To kick the truth to the young black youth
But shorty's running wild smokin sess drinkin' beer
And ain't trying to hear what I'm kickin in his ear
Neglected, but now, but yo, it gots to be accepted
That what? That life is hectic
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Cash, Rules, Everything, Around, Me
Get the money
Dollar, dollar bill y'all
Track Name: 3 Bricks [Ghostface ft. Notorious B.I.G. & Raekwon]
We run the city
[Notorious B.I.G.]
Today's agenda, got the suitcase up in the Sentra
Go to room 112, tell 'em Blanco sent ya
Feel the strangest, if no money exchanges
I got these kids in Ranges, to leave them niggaz brainless
All they tote is stainless, you just remain as
Calm as possible, make the deal go through
If not, here's 12 shots, we know how you do
Please make yo' killings clean, slugs up in between
They eyes, like "True Lies," kill 'em and flee the scene
Just bring back the coke or the cream
Or else, your life is on the shelf, we mean this Frank
Them cats we fuckin with put bombs in your mom's gas tank
Let's get this money baby, they shady, we get shady
Dress up like ladies and burn 'em with dirty 380's
Then they come to kill our babies, that's all out
I got gats that blow the wall out, clear the mall out
Fuck the fallout, word to Stretch I bet they pussy
The seven digits push me, fuckin real, here's the deal
I got a hundred bricks, fourteen-five apiece (uh-huh)
Enough to cop a six; buy the house on the beach (uh-huh)
Supply the peeps with Jeeps, brick apiece, capiche?
Everybody gettin cream no one considered them leech
Think about it now that's damn near one-point-five
I kill 'em all I'll be set for life, Frank pay attention
These motherfuckers is henchmen, renegades
If you die they still get paid, extra probably
Fuck a robbery, I'm the boss
Promise you won't rob 'em, I promise
But of course you know I had my fingers crossed
[Chorus: Raekwon]
Niggaz got to die, if I go they got to go
Niggaz got to die, let a hundred shots float
Niggaz got to die, cause it's all up in the scrolls
Catch a body on the bridge, three bricks, live kid
... if I go they got to go
Niggaz got to die, let a hundred shots float
Niggaz got to die, cause it's all up in the scrolls
Catch a body on the bridge, three bricks, live kid
We up in the lab, two Spanish, one Arab lady
Layin on the bed, lookin like a drag
Had the pillow cuffed, lookin at me and Frank, her grill was rough
Who woulda ever think she'd rather do us up
But that's the business, back to the sitch
On these Puerto Rican kids with pistols
Doin sign language is twitchin noses
Ask 'em where the money at, yo where the coke at papi?
We can do this all day, yo y'all both whack
They pulled out, one of my dunn soldiers was wombed out
They snuck up on him, put the tool up in his mouth
Walked them up in crib, big move, but they grabbed the kid
Had the shotty on my beehive, my wig
And yo they took me to the bathroom, started up the chainsaw yo
You gon' talk or see your brains on the floor
That's when 6 to 7 masked men, came in blastin yo
All I heard was Frank Lexi get the raw
[Ghostface Killah]
Bleed just like us, believe my pipe bust
If he holdin the right amount of cheese I might rush the spot
Up early in the mornin, kick the door in, wave the 4 an'
(fuck) the brawlin, cause Tony for the stallin
And all I see is $ signs, here's the bottom line either
Give up the product or get shot up with a brolic 9
Invest figures to address (niggaz)
Workin out, all I curl is my index finger
Got a safe that hold more notes than Cortex singers
My work is move trays, serve 'em up like gourmet dinners
When it comes to cuttin that (coke), who got the best trimmers
Edward Scissorhands them grams, (niggaz) respect winners
I got them big spenders comin through, hourly
Competition, we knock 'em out the box, powerfully
Still drop a ill verse, on the D.I., me
You might be gone, but the legacy is B.I.G., nigga
Yo I think they tryin to do somethin man
I don't know what it is but we gon' go in there handle this business man
Straight up, why'knahmean?
It's goin down...
Let's go handle this man...
Track Name: La Saga [IAM feat. Sunz of Man]
Royal Fam, IAM, Sunz of Man, Wu Tang Clan

'bout to take it to another chamber from Medina to Marseille... Marseille, Marseille ...

Prodigal Sunn

Yo, IAM, SUNZ OF MAN from the ROYAL FAM never ate ham, never gave a damn

Timbo King

In the begining there was darkness, then came light
I grab the mic to dis' your ass just for spite
What ? You can't fuck with the flows I bring
Watch the staff I swing
It's Timbo King, astonishing, I'm dramatic to the ear
Television tells lies to your vision
So, beware of the trick-nology set off to fool the mind
If you're dumb you're lost, if you're wise you will find
That poison is a devil substance made for scratch
'Cause one rotten apple destroys the whole batch you scratch
I throw jabs to your jaws so quick
You get bashed in the head with a stone face brick
We're thick like molasses, deeper than the earth's mantle
Royal take over, stampede, trample
Those who force kids tell lies to the youth
My grand child, my roots run deep is proof what ?


A 17 ans je me suis fait une raison
J'étais un petit con, un nerveux, spasmophile
Baston et je frappais un coup de pied dans la table
Tout volait envenimé par la négativité
Tant d'échecs, tant de défaites
Ont forgé le mordant, pour encaisser les coups dans ma mentalité
Fauché, sans occupation, il n'y a pas pire
Je ne possédais rien et je voulais fonder un empire
J'ai persisté, dit des trucs vrais et ai été pisté
J'ai insisté et le groupe IAM a existé
Pour de bon, j'étais sincère
J'écris des vers pour mes pairs
Et il n'y a qu'eux qui flippent derrière
De l'attention, ils se foutaient, donc j'ai roulé pour ma poire
Comme le gaz, les intouchables phases de mes phrases
J'ai même changé d'avis pour la saga
C'est plus je revenais quand tu allais, j'y retournais

Prodigal Sunn


Never ate ham, never gave a damn (x4)

Dreddy Krueger

I'm blowing niggaz out the frame
Now what's my motherfuking name [Dreddy Krueger]
I'm playing niggaz like a boy game
You can't fuck with the drunk Dreddy Krueger
Blaow ! Blaow !
Two slugs from my rugger and I move ya [move ya]
I write rhyme when I'm sober
Singing when I'm drunk
The Buddah Monk got the skunk
Yo, I smoke niggaz like kryptonite blunts
Dog bitches like soup, fucking up my stew, then yo
I step the gates and troop to see my nigga
The gza, who had my bulletproof [my bulletproof]
Vest for my chest to relieve some of my stress [stress]
And I'm safe from my neck to my waist
But still I gotta to worry about a nigga catching me in the face
And beat the case, just 'cause he had papes [papes]
[get it straight]

Prodigal Sunn


Never ate ham, never gave a damn (x4)


La route vers le but fixé est longue et périlleuse
Souvent bordée de tavernes aux enseignes lumineuses
Et c'est dur de résister à l'invitation
De rester posé sur le rail comme un wagon
Telle une flèche filer droit sur la cible
Ignorer les ragots est la seule solution possible
Le temps passe trop vite pour que j'y prête
Une attention quelconque, je sais qu'en fait
Tout le monde veut la même chose
Mais personne ne veut que tu l'obtiennes avant les autres
Pourtant, je roule pour moi, fils
Tant pis pour les autres si la médisance est leur hobby favori
Je suis sorti de cette période néfaste où
Tu te prélasses en attendant que tout se fasse
J'avance fort de mes expériences passées et je souris
En voyant ceux qui s'empressent d'y aller
Track Name: R.E.C. Room [Inspectah Deck]
Killa Killa Hill
Killa Hill
Killa Killa Hill
Killa Hill
Killa Killa Hill, 10304 style kid
All my DNV recpostry niggas
You out there?
Is you out there?
[Verse 1:]
I throw your brain in the cobra clutch
Behold the rush attach and display
If you can get close enough
Cold Crush like the 4, sting of anaconda
Fierce darts that'll pierce through solid armor
Lounge in the parish wid Blue and Cappadonna
Spiderman, identity be the sparker
Crowd pleaser renders you off the meter
Verbal street sweeper buck shots through the speaker
Pleasure seekers fifty thou in the stands
Two fans hit it hot like Jamaica stand
Tumble land wide like an eagle wing span
Trans Am stabbing the track wit' both hands
Not a lost soul who fought for food gold
I shine like a diamond in the true state of cold
To hot to handle to cold to hold
Rap play the role doc I might lose control
Hold the throne in my iron palm
One hand hold the firearm, on a mission I slice long
Strike calm through the fire like Chaka Khan
World wide on the web without the dot com
Killa Bees live in the place to be
Burn 3rd degree on the m-I-see
So deadly cones a catastrophe
And this is the way we crack the party
Rec, rec, rec, rec, rec, rec, rec
Rec, rec, rec, rec, rec, rec, rec
Rec, rec, rec
[Verse 2:]
Killa Bee swarming protect your neck
Calls the warning so proceed with caution
I walk wid my swordmen we all in together
Wu-Tang Forever gon' win from Puerto Rico
Cross the caves of Berlin
Echo in the cell blocks of federal pens
It be the WU-TANG, you came and went
Enough to gain mentally and physically bent
What I invent sharpened barb wire fence
I represent sure to make a grand entrance
Wid the deadly enter contents under pressure
Inspector put you rep in the sector
Feather weight contenders surrender T.K.O
First round knockout bets to big spenders
Dirty on the mic like Marco Polo
Internal bleeding occurs to your phono
Thoughts brought forth as wild as up north
It's a bloodsport get rushed for tough talk
But I hold my ground like it's high noon
Lock release tapes surround the mic room
I jump on the live tune provide the boom
Foes we consume become fake in the fumes
Killa Bees live in the place to be
Burn 3rd degree on the m-I-see
So deadly cones a catastrophe
And this is the way we crack the party
Rec, rec, rec, rec, rec, rec
Rec, rec
Track Name: Apollo Kids [Ghostface Killah]
Yo, check these up top murderous
Snowy in the bezzle as the cloud merges
F.B.I. try and want word with this
Kid who punked out bust a shot up in the beacon
Catch me in the corner not speaking
Crushed out heavenly, U.G. rock the sweet daddy long fox minks
Chicken and broccoli, Wally's look stinky
With his man straight from Raleigh Durham, he recognized Kojak
I slapped him five, Masta Killa cracked his tiny form
Everybody break bread, huddle around
Guzzle that, I'm about to throw a hand in your bag
Since the face been revealed, game got real
Radio been gassing niggas, my impostors scream they ill
I'm the inventor, '86 rhyming at the center
Debut '93 LP told you to Enter
Punk fagot niggas stealing my light
Crawl up in the bed with grandma,
beneath the La-Z-Boy where ya hid ya knife
Ghost is back, stretch Cadillac's, fruit cocktails
Hit the shells at Paul's Pastry Rack
Walk with me like Darthy tried to judge these
plush degrees, said the cow, wrap the fees
Getting waxed all through the drive-through
Take the stand, throw my hand all on the Bible
and tell lies too, I'm the ultimate
splash the Wolverine Razor Sharp ring, dolomite
student in role holding it
Hey yo, this rappin's like Ziti, facin me real TV
Crash at high-speeds, strawberry, kiwi
As we approach, yo herb, the Gods bail
These Staten Island ferryboat cats bail
Fresh cellies, 50 thief up in the city
We banned for life, Apollo kids live to spit the real
A pair of bright phat yellow Air Max
Hit the racks, stack 'em up Son, $20 off no tax
Street merchant tucked in the cloud, stay splurging
Rock a eagle head, 6-inch height was the bird
Monday night Dallas verse Jets, dudes slid in with one hand
Two culture-ciphers, one bag of wet
Heavy rain fucked my kicks up
Wasn't looking, splashed in the puddle
Bitch laughing, first thought was beat the bitch up
Mossied off gracefully, New York's most wanted tee-ball hawk
Seen the yellow brick road, lust of pastries
Same Ghostface, holy in the mind
Last scene, Manhattan Chase
We drew the six-eight digit in the briefcase
Rawness, title is Hell-bound
Quick to reload around faces, surround look astound
Track Name: Da Mystery of Chessboxin' [Wu-Tang Clan]
My peoples are you with me where you at?
In the front, in the back killa-bees on attack
My peoples are you with me where you at?
Smoking meth hitting cats on the block with the gats
Raw I'ma give it to ya, with no trivia
Raw like cocaine straight from Bolivia
My hip-hop will rock and shock the nation
Like the Emancipation Proclamation
Weak MC's approach with slang that's dead
You might as well run into the wall and bang your head
I'm pushing force, my force you're doubting
I'm making devils cower to the Caucus Mountains
Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire
Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah
I come from the Shaolin slum, and the isle I'm from
Is coming through with nuff niggas, and nuff guns
So if you wanna come sweating, stressing contesting
You'll catch a sharp sword to the midsection
Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk
Phony niggas are outlined in chalk
I'm mad vexed, it's what the projects made me
Rebel to the grain there's no way to barricade me
Steamrolling niggas like a eighteen wheeler
With a drunk driver driving, there's no surviving
Rough like Timberland wear, yeah
Me and the Clan, and yo the Landcruisers out there
Peace to all the crooks, all the niggas with bad looks
Bald heads, braids, blow this hook
We got chrome Tecs, nickel plated Macs
Black Ac's, drug dealing styles in phat stacks
I only been a good nigga for a minute though
Cuz I got to get my props, and win it yo
I got beef wit commercial-ass niggas with gold teeth
Lamping in a Lexus eating beef
Straight up and down don't even bother
I got forty niggas up in here now, who kill niggas fathers
My peoples are you with me where you at?
In the front, in the back killa-bees on attack
My peoples are you with me where you at?
Smoking meth hitting cats on the block with the gats
Track Name: Speaking Real Words [7L & Esoteric ft. Inspectah Deck]
[Inspectah Deck]
Yo.. INS the Rebel, your highness
With 7L and Esoteric, speaking real words
Speak on it kid!

Yo, I touch the mic like a savage
The Esoteradactyl's rap style's beyond average
To say the least, I'm slayin beasts with the right plan
I'll take your hype man and beat him with the mic stand
You're like, "Damn!I better get a resource"
I'll overpower three-fourths of your police force
You're talkin to a fugitive who'll serve your crew
Fake his own death and come back to murder you
Who raps to the crack of dawn?Who's the droid
Who destroyed numerous humanoids like atom bombs?
You're nothin but a tag-a-long, that I be raggin on
7L's on the cut, while Joe is tappin on
The 3000, me I'm just loungin
Waitin for a sucker MC to start poundin
You know the deal, so check the cassette
It's Esoteric and Inspectah Deck, what you expect?

[Inspectah Deck]
Yo, yo, yo
I stash heat, creep past police on the beat
Keep it movin in the mean streets, I the black sheep
Roll deep with the Killa Beez, quick on the squeeze
Freeze - nobody move, just hand over the G's
Gone with the breeze, everything's peace at ease
Now I'm laid back, countin stacks, twistin the trees
My rap's scorchin - way beyond third degrees
Enemies get blown like autumn leaves
Authorities comb the block, I'm peepin they steez
After me cause the rhyme's worth about two ki's
And double that 'cross seas
Fiends buy off the heez, the result's more currencies
Them no worry we, I strike em down suddenly
Funny how they rush me, must be the money
You hate me or you love me, don't ever (f**k) me
Trust me, we can make the scene turn ugly

I'm like a man posessed that can't confess
Yes it's the Es' to bless, wicked test pressed to rest
Crab rapper, my raps shatter your wax platter
Esoteric's data can stab up the tracks badder
My words flow for the, rap cats who rep locally
Transmit poetry fit to hit em globally
Eso', yes status fresh from the get go
Sinister, ready to administer the death blow
On rap cats cause I'm takin it back
To a time when it was cool to call hip-hop rap
Cause I've been rappin, since fly sneakers were cheap
Since I bought em off Koreans down on Washington Street
Since I had a cameo, since I rocked rope chains
Since I had gold fronts with the Polo frames
Since "Goin' Way Back," since pro black rap
Since the Jungle Brothers let me know "I Got it Like That"
Lyrics from <a href="http://www.elyrics.net">eLyrics.net</a>
Track Name: Beneath the Surface [GZA]
On a man-made lake, there's a sheet of thin ice
Where unskilled skaters couldn't figure-eight twice
At sixteen, uncut, direct from the cult
Head-on assault, the result, death by the bolt

In a vote, it spoke about the average loss commission
That was seen by a king in a prophetic vision
Like a plane crash from a bomb blast
Special broadcast, slot time with con cash

It kept the jury quiet and now a riot will form
While satanic man now hang in his dorm
I swing on you fake radio personalities
Boost ya ratings, but hypes behind casualties

Fire shots for low-pressure water gun play
Instantly, slap ya fire like it's Palm Sunday
I fashioned the first tool from the elements
The earth used and built it to a complex

Network of communications, you're up against a hopeless situation
I screen every vehicle through enemy observation
Swarmin' unpredictably, we spread terror
Increase the force significantly, change the error

Check my wind pattern, it's headin' west
Success is freedom, failure could mean death
Humans sweat, aim shovels
Dig up debris and rubble

Permanent, damage caused by the double
You, now who, callously
Urge you to merge through
And think the workers'll serve you

Signin' Marvel who just dropped the next novel
Worldwide, practically marred in marble
It's accountless, amount of MC's I saved
And those same niggas wanna squander those gifts I gave
Track Name: The Show [Method Man]
Y'all know me since '93, now let that weed burn
Back in this bitch, class dismissed, it's the return
Of the super sperm, game over, lose a turn
Takes a germ to kill a germ, when will y'all killas learn
Your only as good as your last hit
Soon as you put them automatics on safety that's it

I calm them bastards, I call them ratchets
Till you blasted, till y'all come ashes to ashes
We make classic, huh, bring you a rougher sound
You either up or down, don't get that ass kicked
Y'all niggaz fuck around, y'all only tough around
The crowds, scared to bust a round, don't get that ass kicked

What part of the game is this?
I came to break bread, evidently y'all killas came to bitch, nigga
So, whose the whipped nigga, don't even trip, nigga
Some say they pull trigga, I think they bullshitter
I just begun to fight, if mommy like daddy talk
Then daddy might get him some tonight

Give me, my limelight, give me, my five mics
Give me, some weed and a light to get my mind right
Is he, the illest M.C., to ever play the tough city
To find out it'll cost you bout a buck fifty
Across your face swiftly, my after taste shitty
Whose built by New Yitty, whose milked like two titties

And I ain't even got to say my name
I got this duck wit' her legs up like, "Say my name, trick"
You think it's all a game, like pussy all the same
I'm speakin' toilet slang, not seakin' hall of fame
It's raw, sushi, stain' in your drawers, dooky
Quarter a Lucy, quarter more for a groupie

That like to pop snoopy, think she gonna pop coochie
Just 'cause you got Gucci, don't mean you not hoochie
Girl, I tell it like a T I N
Ain't no other kids eatin' till I feed my kids
Trick, oh, you ain't crushin', sister, I can't do nothin' wit' you

My money's celebrate, honey and we ain't fuckin' wit' you
I do it for the nookie, some say I'm too pushy
Only thing better than pussy, that's some new pussy
There that go, looky, it's gettin' ugly even
With niggaz so broke, they couldn't spend a lovely even

Yeah, that's it
Yeah, Method Man has just left
The muthafuckin' building
Track Name: 1-800 Suicide [Gravediggaz]
[Verse One]
Back in the ghetto it rained for forty days
A-alike slain but I can't show no pain
My headache, enormous proportions is the size of a bucket
Painkillers can't touch it
Yo, what my little brothers gone
Now I'm torn apart as I stand with the knife at my heart
We shared the good and the bad times
When Moms broke out to the store, it was half time
Remember she came back yo and we got beatings with the Hot Wheels track
I felt the hurt from your own predicament
Lost your scholarship, can't play pro ball with torn ligaments
Career suddenly ended, your goal is offended
Suicide death tips recomended to try, black
But you and I verse, as we bless the earth
So let us pour the wine preventing suicide

[Verse Two]
Nicole's torn away from home at age 12
In search of herself she found an angel of hell
Who deceived her like Eve
And convinced her to leave
Her family
You can see she was very naive
The fallacy she was taught was brain washed thoughts
In a cult with no culture
Soon she was forced
Into showing her skin tones for thin, grins and moans
To please her saviour Jim Jones
Her pop's was an ex-marine
Him and his team
Got M-16's so they could blow up the scene
"No tambourine-beating Deacon, is freaking my seed, every weekend, as long
As I'm breathing"
They parachuted in, Started shooting men, Recruited by Jim
Grabbed Nicole and threw her in
To the trunk, She was that close to drinking the punch
And realized, False prophets lead to suicide

[Verse Three]
I was born in a bed of thorns, surrounded by men with horns
Wicked forms, but still I was happy to be born
I grew up in a house of ten, of mouse of men, rats and roaches lacking oxygen
Every night I dreamed I saw ghosts
Babies crying, favourite uncles dying, Mom's crying, Pops lying
Mom's going across his head with a frying pan
Me and my man made plans to rule the land and raise a fam
Now my man stands six feet deep in a box, covered with sand
Tears are dropping, (niggas) droppin or
Coppin out the 2-to-5s, smoking dust, do or die, suicide
About to face a bid, cos I tried to waste this kid
Ready to embrace the biscuit to my face, pull it back
Erase it kid, pull the trigger
But I figure, that I got a little RZA
Can't let him get trapped by the evil wizards
Wicked men apply genocide, homicide, for you and I to try
(you) won't figure this out till you die
It's a suicide
Track Name: Do The Damn Thing [Killah Priest]
[Intro: Killah Priest]
You know this beat is crazy, right
This the beat right here, yo
They gonna love this when they hear this, g

[Chorus: Killah Priest]
A lot of these rappers are indecisive
Ya'll comin' to this game, like ya'll the nicest
But, anyway, get rich, get brain
Get off the wall and do the damn thing
Get off the floor and do the damn thing
Get off the floor and do the damn thing

[Killah Priest]
Silly rappers, when will you learn
You play with fire and you will get burned
'cause now, I've been low, lately, waitin' my turn
Turn off my radio 'cause I'm not concerned with ya'll
Weak rhymes, same topics
This one's for the streets, for the projects
For my g's with the weed in the apartments
For my dogs in the law hit with charges
Fuck them, 'cause I love ya'll regardless
For my chicks in the whips dancin' bra-less
Hair done, nice face, lookin' flawless
I got that thing, bust off, lead objects
Ya'll cats are lame, no threat, it's a promise
Name your favorite rapper, well, he's fake
And you fake, that's why you fuck with his tape
I'll take that thing and just bust in your face
You're not real, same flow, no style
I pop steel, lames, no know who go down
And I don't give a fuck, who run the city or not
'cause the streets is real, even Biggie got Pac
And I love those niggas, but I don't love ya'll
Bust a slug for those niggas, but bust a slug at ya'll
And I get physical, visual, very artistical
Givin' party people something, funky to listen to
Hizza, hey, my rhymes is blizza, blazed
Cross your fizza, face, down to your waist
Raps, I do this, since the music influence the truest
I shoot 'em with rhymes, execute 'em with lines
They knew since their kind is all stupid
Beats we loop it then they cue it, they foolish
And I stand to prove it this time, come on


[Hook: Killah Priest]
'cause it's new year, best to come correct
I ain't hear a style that I can't do yet
I ain't hear a rapper, that I can't move yet
Get off the wall and do the damn thing
Get on the floor and do the damn thing

[Killah Priest]
I see it, then write it, believe it, I'm psychic
The nicest is here, the rest of those cats
They was last year, well do something...
I heard it, the beefs, the murders, the streets
The cursin', that's weak, do something
Different, for instance, the Priest is brief
A technique, I proves my point, with the pen and some gin
Thoughts and beats, I'm blendin' it in
My records will spin, everybody knows the kid can flow
Rip a show, or lift a soul, but this time, I gets that dough
Plus I'm not, 50, or Biggie, or Diddy
I'm Witty Unpredictable, lyrical masterful mind
Chapters of rhymes, irresistible lines, metaphors is clever than yours
Sever your jaws, I'm ready for war
Like Pac in his Makaveli era, ready for ya'll, with a glock
And rap to spread to deadly terror, I squeeze on this whole industry
Enemies please don't sit with me
I sit with these and cats with keys
Cash and V's, black fatigues, smack M.C.'s, it's over!

Track Name: Noble Art [IAM ft. Method Man & Redman]
Yeah, now that I got the blood, let me speak on this aight
Yeah, I hear a lot of kick in this bitch
Turn the music up in this motherfucker
Other side of the track niggaz
Method Man, Redman, IAM
Let's get it dirty
Yeah, we back live again
It's the world wide niggaz

Ladies and germs, it's pandemonium, brick Napolean

Doc and Meth, all in ya girl falopian
Fuck you up, like a double-stacked Pokemon
Peek-at-you/Pikachu, your a puss (?Dat lowly man?)
I'm from the brick, where there's real car thieves
Rock this funky joint, like P.R.P.'s
Tricks up my sleeve, just give me an hour
I bang two women, on the Eifel Tower

Mes dits saignent, y'a tempête, voici un son d'compet'
Pour l'occas', Rhô, on ramène sur la poudrière l'allumette
Celle qui régénère, la base, et les crimes qu'on n'a pu commettre
Sur disque pour la peine v'là 5 comètes

D'entrée le team occupe le ring comme Ali
Déjà ça pâlit sentant le péril proche le cur
Kaki la plume façon coup de pioche phalange active
Place la droite en sortie de rotative, ressent la force vive
L'énergie de ce son où on sévit à vie

C'est le chant que nos tripes entonnent comme un choc électrique
Chaque phrase touche égotrip ou métaphorique
Blast les blasés sur actif puissant submersible
Vise l'esprit fier irascible, IAM irréductible

Dès le départ, faut que tu comprennes
Understand that Redman got a gun
And when I cock it back, FIRE, I am, somebody
Roll up, or we throw up drinks, until we throw up
Aiyyo, right off the back, I want y'all to know
Que c't'équipe secoue le têtes, y'a le fire dans le show
I am, somebody
Sens l'atmosphère, la haute sphère, la sale rime Rhô

Yo, the bigger they are, the harder they fall
I got some con's, that love songs, harder than y'all
I don't fear nothin' at all, frontin' at all
I even got female cops, bustin' my balls

Don't mess with my mess, my disc in effect
Like the clip in the Tech, ya riskin' ya neck
If ya fixin' to flex, come wit ya best
Or don't come, name a track I don't run

J'débarque sec à la Starsky C'est la guerre
(Massive!) T'sais que c'est parti, esprit de panthère
Siège dans mes dits d'artiste, sans comédie ni médire
J'connais c'biz estampillé, mec averti qui médite

Tu reconnais le son, tu veux ta part ? N'essaie même pas
On sort cru jusqu'au sang surpuissant
Faut que tu sentes l'aisance rimes et assonance
Fait l'effort, capte le sens des textes à l'essence
Le crew frappe grave dès sa naissance

Eh! Mets tes mitaines, tes mythes aiment
Quand t'imites pas, limite pas man

Chacun son combat ici l'beat mène
Donc v'là, on s'amène Et les cous' crient "Amen"
Allez sonner l'gong, qu'on sert les gamelles
V'là du noble art, nos bars, nos pars, briseur d'bobards
Sur sol fixe et loin du gotha
Sur son élevé aux pères Labat, créé pour abattre
Chaque mesure qui s'présente, même si on doit m'abattre

I'm a animal, a real wise guy
I don't talk, I let me boom bye, bye
I shut down the clubs, and I hit the Ave
DOC-TOR, fix a hole, like fix a flag
SHEAH!, they yellin' out "He ain't shit!"
Believe that, when I act like my weed ain't hit
Def Jam, Vandetta, Jam Jay, forever
Rock an umbrella, when I spit, nigga

Plutôt warrior comme Holy Field, ma poésie prolifique

Base mes origines au rap qui horrifie
La masse qui crache des orifices
La haine de l'habit comme on hait l'uniforme
Pas l'homme et la forme de nos rimes horripilent
Le poids des maux tue les clavicules
Et les choix que l'Etat véhicule
En laisse au régime, c'est la rage et l'écume
Les traces du vécu sont les traces qu'on inflige au Ridim
Terrorise comme les PSY 4 à coup d'crime auditif

I'm rocking the fame, I'm hard-headed, my nuts the same
I'm bringing dope back in the game, tap ya fame
And get a fix, y'all ain't really seen bomb shit
Even if you got Inspectah Deck, or Huns Blix
Meth Man, Funk Doc, and IAM
Got these half naked, Hollywood hoes, on spy cams
Y'all know the program, get wit the program
I ain't no singing nigga, this ain't no slow jam
Track Name: Mighty Healthy [Ghostface Killah]
Both hands clusty, chillin' wit my man Rusty low down
Blew off the burner kinda dusty
The world can't touch Ghost, purple tape Rae co-host
Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro
Son trifling fuck, wildflower on the cycling
Pick up the brew thought I was Michael an'
Mics are writin' pool, now, I'm into Iron Duals
Turn-ons the Earth's whoopee, she out of law school
In hale break beats of hell A-Alikes propel parallel
Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell
Snap out of CandyLand, kids the old rumor is
blacks become immune to shit, we never did like
eati' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs
Men marrying men, ill they got the herbs pulsar
Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter
Livin' off land you god damn right I fuck fans king me
Check checkmate props like the micro chip founder
Neck to neck stocks with Bill Gates now
When we hug these mics we get busy
Come and have a good time with G-O-D
Make you snap your fingers or wiggle
Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle
Shake that body, party that body
Don't fuck with Ghost you'll feel sorry
That's word, I'm not the herb
Understand what I'm sayin'
Hit mics like Ted Koppel, rifle expert
Let off the Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it's spiteful
Ringleader set it off, rap Derek Jeter
Culprit, prince of the game wish you could see us
We lay low glitter wax full bangles
Priceless rolls, lay around the God get tangled
Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass
Twelve men, following me, it be the God staff
Move, every script's like Miramax
Smash the big boy totalled it, will shot fear effects
Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' Zima
Wu 'binos, to latinos, we bust Selena
Over night, God schedules, fed ex
Pretty soloette velvet nice DNA scroll genetics
Too hot, to handle one thought scrambling the mandolin
Hundred game Wilt Chamberlain, smack em, say when
He rolling up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts
Yo kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched
It's Canada Dry sess, obsessed with Allah's sun
We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry