Letra Redbull de Wu Tang Clan

[Redman]
RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on
Ring the bell so it´s time to eat
Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats
Bomb isdide the palm
Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass iron dawn
The font of my appartment built like the Klumps
To carry it I take the spear out the trunk
I stay hungry, I ain´t worked for days
That´s why you see the pump when the curtains raise
Blast! Don´t panic
Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed?
Hell nah! I won´t tell you son
If I find a wack ID I sell you one
Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah
My lecture´s like Hannibal Lecture´s
Where´s the ketchup?
Don´t speak on it, shut ya trap
I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks
Ah woo, Doc in my own zone
You say you got the rapgames on, but it´s all wrong
I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softy-truck
Then pull a Mack out a box and smoke hoes
Yeah, ya little fucks
Gimme ya fucking money!

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*]

[Method Man]
Uhuh, check it
I´m hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on
Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong?
Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp
If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn
Pro´s and con´s, megabomb´s and so-on´s
By arid actions try MC´s to get their roll on
First issue got issues
What is hiphop to Hot Nickles
It´s like Funk Docter´s snot tissues, word
Look at my hand and get the third
Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear
Now that´s what I call harcore, let´s act fool
Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool
I been shitty, I´m from the veils of the city
And just because my outfit match don´t make me pretty
Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe
In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese
Ain´t no rules to the game, if it hit we ain´t planned
In your business like EPMD So What You Sayin´
You codesignin that bullshit yo man tryin
Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!!
Slugs flyin

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon, Ghostface and Inspectah Deck*]

[Inspectah Deck]
Yo, ya
Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen
Fo´ wheel machines like ya wits scream
Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban
Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant
We roll longer than dice in a casino
Silo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0
Behind the tinted windows I lay low
On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0
But now I get wild similar to Ol´ Dirty
On third time fellon just hit with over 30
No worries, style have em so thirsty
First degree heats are quittin on me
Cold turkey, no mercy
I bring the pain of a hundred migraines
But a thousand shoutin my name that´s why I came
But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst
My surroundsound pound ya ear like ... curse
I flex muslce outside I find a next hustle
Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle
Even the best buckle win
I take it to the exteme
It gets ugly, but it´s what a nigga do to get cream
This life

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*]