1, 2, 1, 2, yo check this out, it's the jump off right now I want everybody, to put your work down, put your guns down And report to the pit, the gravel pit Leave your problems at home, leave your children at home We gon' take it back underground, I be Bobby Boulders Wu-tang Clan on yo' mind one time It's the jump off, so just jump off my nigga Check out my gravel pit A mystery unraveling Wu-tang is the CD that I travel with Don't go against the grain if you can't handle it Ha, holocaust from the land of the lost Behold the pale horse, off course (off course) Follow me, Wu-Tang gotta be The best thing since Starks and Clark Wallabees African killer bees blackwatch On your radio, blowin out yo' watts From Park Hill, the house on haunted hill Every time you walk by your back get a chill Let's peel, who want to talk rap skills I spit like a semi-automatic to the grill Elbow grease, and elbow room Baby play me, baby fall down, go boom Party people gather round, count down to apocalypse (I'm the kid with the golden arms) And I'm the motherfuckin hott nikks pass the blunt My nigga don't front You had it for a minute but it seem like a month Now I'm chokin, smokin, hopin I don't croakin, from overdosin Hey, kid, walk straight, master your high Wu and Meth got you open (open), let's ride Can't stand niggas that floss too much Can't stand Bentleys they cost too much Kid wanna get up then kid get touched Kid wanna stick up then kid get stuck I'm the one that called your bluff When your boy tried to act tough Remember what Ol' Dirty said: "I'll f*ck yo' ass up!" Now listen Back, back and forth and forth E with the English, extinguish styles extremist Bald head beamers run wild It's the kid with the gold cup Stepped out like what What's poppin, and y'all niggas dobo Blastin shae shae, chocolate shortae Rich color mocks, rock those all day 1960 shit I'm Goldie That's right motherfucker don't hold me The world's greatest, Las Vegas, paid as rock Skin painted on my face look ageless Perfect combos, Ghost bang out condos Jeff from Hamo, ex three bangos Bancos, stank hoes in plain clothes Change those, bang those, same old, same old Yeah y'all, straight up this the jump off right here The gravel pit, word up represent, rock the boulders All my rich gangsta style, killers, y'all know what time it is Shorty do your thing, get up on that shit right now boo, do you That's what I'm talkin 'bout Yo, step to my groove, move like this When we shoot the gift of course it's ruthless Grab the mic with no excuses In a sec, grab the Tecs and loot this Executing, shaking all sets, and I'm breaking all hecks I'm taking all bets, move all best, who want the dram' next You all stank, we got the bigger bank Bigger shank to fill your tank Still the same kill you for real, while you crank Slide, do or die, fry to bake Admire the greats, on fire wit a heart of hate Bitter shark, every part I take, heavy darts that quake It's okay, all fakes, get caught by the dropkicks You know the thrill, yes it's Park Hill Yo we hit 'em with the hot grits On the go, check the flow, saying Wu don't rock shit Stop quick, hold the gossip, stop sweating my pockets I hear the hot shit Check out my gravel pit A mystery unraveling Wu-tang is the CD that I travel with Don't go against the grain if you can't handle it You don't have to move a mountain Just give me enough strength to climb Oh Lord ! Don't take away my stumbling vows And lead me a round Yakub, maker and creator of the devil Swine merchant your time is near at hand F*ck with me and your time will be now Your presence here effects the mind of my people like a fever You, Yakub, are the bearer of nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine diseases Evil, corrupt, porkchop-eatin' brain!
Written by: ROBERT F. DIGGS, LAMONT HAWKINS, DENNIS DAVID COLES, CLIFFORD SMITH, PAULISA MOORMAN, KEVIN LLOYD KENDRICK, LARRY BLACKMON, TOMI JENKINS, NATHAN DAVID LEFTENANT, ANTOINE DOMINIQUE DUHAMEL
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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