Duck Season - Wu-Tang Clan

[Raekwon the Chef] 
Scrape y'all motherfuckers 
This is my word, when you see us 
When you see us flashing and shining 
And building and adding on 
Y'all niggaz just watch it, hear me 
Only ones that who we got respect for 
Is them niggaz that we say peace to 
Hear me, pay attention, put your shoes on 
Yo, my team be bellyaching hungry niggaz on the swarm again 
Pirahna niggaz bite dick, yo Son, it's on again 
What up, he made a move, try to assist it 
Listen kid yo, you was born to be a pawn but I'm a bishop 
Back to the novel, you Son, it's logical 
How you figure God, what, flow on the track, flip the obstacle 
Now my proposal, it's the global 
From California to courts, it's over God, so taste the tofu 
Remember baggy jeans, the Timberlands in November 
Shorty called me Santa in December 
But guess what, my Wally's got messed up 
Autograph presser what, blast enough to blow your rest up 
We scrape that, Land O' Lake that 
My dolo rapper get you sent back 
Represent the gentlemens who bent that 
Flash medallions like Italians 
La costra nostra, we moving through your hood like a poster 
Flex this, Lex and Diamonds hold the settlement 
So keep the bust the gun Boo 
Like that bad ass bitch in Dead Presidents 
Add on, the billboard sloan 
Check it now, you get the gold dick award 
It's like jail and it's the sixth floor 
Test me, floating in the S.E., now let's see 
Half of y'all niggaz built your rhyme from my sess tree 
Faggots, homos, yo, my flavor liver than a dobo 
Stay militant kid, push it like bolo 
You fucking idiot, playing with my Clan but you be fearing it 
Face one, I'm guaranteed to make you take one 
Please, y'all niggaz money getting low 
But did you come back, set up shop, and get the phat dough 
Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all 
So what the deal now, blinking with us or put your shield down 
Faggot, fuck fuck around punk, battle for cream nigga 

[RZA] 
You want to pound crab, nah let his hand swing 
I ought to punch a hole in his palm with these pointy ass rings 
No more said, knew your chump ass was dead 
When I saw the four four reflecting off your shiny forehead 
It's Wu-Tang nigga, ain't nothing changed nigga 
Still shame on a nigga, who tried to run game 
Get virgin and perversions, fucking bitches with Persian 
Bugs watching niggaz like the turgeon, it's the surgeon slugs 
still pounds when Bobby Steels 12 gauge gonna pay deadly chronicles 
We, held up in Gotham take heed and protect your seeds 
We fall like all the leaves, who lack tranquility 
In your rap utility to fuck with the abilities 
Raised like a sperm cell to the ovary 
Microphone post tone like a rotary phone 
Age of poems and poetry, old sloans 
Explosive head bullets, black hooded 
Invalid footed ninjas, who full metal jacket clips 
And know how to put it in you 
Surrender your goods and your merchandise 
For no purchase price, I'm certainly a heist 
For your ice and curtains and vice 
Come quietly, Wu-Tang Clan rules society 
Because of variety, so maintain your high anxiety 
And lead them to defy me, diary... 
I need 18 points for my next joint 
This high and mointed king, to make a deal 
I be the one to appoint, Steve Ripken must have been sniffing 
To catch something so dope, it left minor c-lits pussy dripping 
I fuck hundreds of bitches, and split millions of dollars 
And built with thousands of scholars 
My life saga from the hildred of horor 
Legal kid brown in Nicaragua 
Gave birth to MC's, seeds and bank robbers 
We drove with pistol whips into world-wide trips 
And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips 
Stand to tell the contestants, in the world's best repressment 
But none of the above compare to the one-twenty lessons 
Or my queen and my seeds, in the home that I rest in 
Enter my dome get blown to 99 sections 

[Method Man] 
This rhyme has no limitations, this time there's no hesitation 
Collecting minds at the door, you want it niggaz it's yours 
The flavors raw, what the fuck you think I'm flowing for 
It's rhyme and reason, bite the bullet 
Niggaz is foul in this duck season 
We add odds till we even motherfucker 
Bad asses, high times, lower classes 
Taste mine, straight shots in dirty glasses 
Bring it to him, room service, under pressure 
And mad nervous, waving guns at the clergy 
Ticallion, we ain't worried 
Keep them sick niggaz seven-thirty 
Picture this, watch the birdy 
This bastards is rolling dirty 
With sharp pins that be stabbing you 
Pins and needles, needles and pins 
Nuff said, dick in your mouth 
Like pimp was bled, as I race track with thoroughbreds 
Ducking the feds 

[Ghostface] 
Yo, my ice slow fly up on the keyboard son 
Niggaz ran up on me law, praising what we do by the lords 
That's right, exile the fake, hit them niggaz like weight 
Feed a fool, let the fake evaporate 
Reconstruction, that's the whole science of mine 
Production, ya'll niggas guess who stuck son 
Left his meth son, switch, finger itch 
Staring at you like a bitch, maybe y'all niggaz snitch 
Youse a loner, Adidas shell top with lye 
sipping Corona, read the rev report then bone her 
Buy you some jewels, here's some food 
Not neccessarily mean to be rude boo, check out the analoo 
We in the mushrooms, chased the high neck in the custom 
Baggy jeans, thick ropes god, sliding through customs 
Chill, y'all niggaz know what time it is 
James Bond Beamers behind me, on Bacardi Lime and 
check out the pitch like Nolan Ryan 
He cought a slug for lying 
Yeah you was lying, where's the cash, crying 
Militia, rolling in position 
Casa Blanca Cuban Link Christian 
Lex the tally back whistling, fake fucks