| Wigs splat, get jacked, Zig-Zag |
| Bob Dig’back, migs act fool |
| Wiz jack jewel, kids act cool, in school |
| When they hit up walkman they catch the jewel |
| 9th Prince, projects surrounded by a picket fence |
| Yo it must be the work of the wicked gent |
| Should we yack 'em? Should we attack 'em? |
| Should we gunsmack 'em or carjack 'em? |
| Slap 'em, computer hack 'em |
| Bypasses the school, I failed 5 classes |
| Had my eyes on the fat thighs and fat asses |
| Big tits, I used to rock the Gucci knits |
| And thick Polo sweaters with the horsey on the stitch |
| Now I rock the W-U W-E-A-R, boy be a star |
| No matter who you are, A-B Allah, B-C Allah |
| I was born in the wilderness with the urge of fullfillin’this |
| Rotten hip-hop that you crabs forgot |
| Wu what? Wu tucks, Wu cuts, Wu new chucks |
| You could suck dew nuts |
| Some of y’all niggaz hold mic like bitches |
| Some of y’all bitches hold mics like niggaz |
| Hard for seeds to figure which is which is Now you wonder why your seed switches |
| Burn the Bridges! |
| (See some of y’all niggaz hold mic like bitches |
| Some of y’all bitches hold mics like niggaz) |
| Hard for seeds to figure which is which is Make you wonder why your seed switches |
| Burn the Bridges! |
| Aiyo I spit lead, the aim strike for ya head |
| 9th Prince, sometimes I’m braindead |
| Six foot four, kick down ya front door |
| Breakin’all laws, verbal prostitute |
| Ya life is my whore, me and The RZA is like Twin Towers |
| Smack you with the culture power, sweet and sour |
| Rain acid showers, so grab ya umbrella |
| Poetry spoken accapella, the bad fellas |
| You can’t feel us or smell us, or even rebel against us So run for ya life par, fuck bein’a superstar |
| Give life like Allah U Akbar |
| Stay in ya lane with ya Go Kart, we too smart |
| Hollow point darts that’ll stop ya heart |
| Beware of the dark, we teeth like tiger sharks |
| Or Noah’s Ark, head shock reveals the worst part |