Chorus:
IF bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Then niggaz ain't shit but hoes wit dicks
(REPEAT 2X)
Murderous verse
Muthafuckas won't even make it to the chorus
They'll find you and yo bitch buried in the Angeles National Forest
Anything you can do
I heard it done before better but I can do you in 36 positions
Enter Wu like the Wu Tang debut
Now who remains true to the game
Damn shame it wasn't you
Fools, they claim to fly rhymes but I terrorize airlines
My minds a porcelain glock 7 slippin through the metal detector
Ready ta wet'cha like baptism
It's rap pugilism when I be placin 208 bones in one jone wit microphones
I'm like the blade runner huntin clones
I beat it like one glove and a bat
No job, but more breathin techniques than Lamaz
Ras still be drinkin more liquor brews
And continues to liquidation the crews
Wit a drunken technique like Shun Di's kung fu on Virtua Fighter 2
See me son, I'm the one sportin Dolce and Gabana
Pealin this bastard's wig back like cradle cap
You ain't no cap pilla for rilla
And for who you desire to kill you need more God than Zilla
I breaks'em off like a acryllic nails
Test me but you appear to be Presley like Priscilla
And still malicious disses, but this is
10% dis, 90% skill, so curses
'Fore ya'll begin like Hershey's kisses
Ya so called vicious, although
How they gonna be a menace when it ain't no men in it?
Oh, they womenace (with clitorises)
In a new year, a new fear, and I'm nu-clear
Let's play a friendly game of who can ruin who's career
I'mma kill up on ya b-boys, you like one o' Heavy D's boys
Got niggaz fallin off the stag