(Ol' Dirty Bastard): What ya'll think you wasn't gonna see me? I'm the Osiris of this shit/ Wu-Tang is here forever, muthafucka/ It's like this ninety-seven/ Aight my niggas and niggarettes/ Let's do it like this/ I'ma rub your ass in moonshine/ Let's take it back to seventy-nine............ (Inspectah Deck): I bomb automatically, Socrates' philosophies/ and high prophecies can't define how I be droppin' these/ mockeries, lyrically perform armed robbery/ Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me/ Battle-scarred shogun, explosion when my pen hits/ tremendous, ultra-violet shine blind forensics/ I inspect you, through the future see millenium/ Killa B's sold 50 gold 60 platinum/ Shackling the matches with drastic rap tactics/ Graphic displays melting the steel like blacksmiths/ Black Wu jackets queen B's ease the guns an'/ Rumblein' patrolmen teargas laced the function/ Heads by the score take flight incite a war/ Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans demand more/ Behold the bold soldier, control the globe slowly/ Proceeds to blow swingin' swords like Shinobi/ Stomp grounds I pound footprints in solid rock/ Wu got it locked, performin' live on your hottest block............ (Method Man): As the world turns, I spread like germs/ Bless the globe with the pestilence, the hard-headed never learn/ It's my testament that does burn/ Play my position in the game of life, standing firm/ on foreign land, jump the gun out the frying pan, into the fire/ Transform into the Ghostrider, a six pack/ and A Street Car Named Desire, who got my back? In the line of fire holding back, what? My peoples if you with me where the fuck you at? Niggas is strapped, and they trying to push my big cap/ It's court adjourned, for the bad seed from bad sperm/ Herb got my wig fried like a bad perm, what the blood clot/ We smoke blunts and blow spots/ You wanna think twice, I think not/ The Iron Lung aint got ta tell you where it's coming from/ Guns of Navarone, tearing up your battle zone/ Rip through your slums............. (Cappadonna): I twist darts from the heart, tried and true/ Loot my voice on the LP, my team is on to slang rocks/ Certified chatterbox, vocabulary 'Donna talking/ Tell your story walking/ Take cover kid, what? Run for your brother kid/ Run for your team, and your 6 camp rhyme groupies/ So I can squeeze with the advantage, and get wasted/ My deadly nose reigns supreme/ Your fort is basic compared to mine/ Domino effect, arts and crafts/ Paragraphs contain cyanide/ Take a free ride on my dart, I got the fashion/ catalogues for all y'all to all praise to the Gods............. (Ol' Dirty Bastard): The saga continues. Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang........... (U-God): Olympic torch flaming, we burn so sweet/ The thrill of victory, the agony, defeat/ We crush slow, flaming deluxe slow/ For, judgement day cometh, conquer, it's war/ Allow us to escape, hell blows spinning bomb/ Pocket full of shells out he sky, Golden Arms/ Tune strictly shitty Mortal Kombat sound/ The fateful step make, the blood stain the ground/ A jungle junkie, vigilante tantrum/ A death kiss, cap off squeeze another anthem/ Hold it for ransom, tranquilized with anesthetics/ My orchestra, graceful, music ballerinas/ My music Sicily, rich California smell/ An axekiller adventure, paint a picture well/ I sing a song from Sing-Sing, sippen' on ginseng/ Righteous wax chaperone, roatating ring king........... (RZA): Watch for the wooden soldiers, C-cypher punks couldn't hold us/ A thousand men rushing in, not one nigga who was sober/ Perpendicular to the square, we stand bold like Flare/ Escape from your Dragon's Lair, in particular/ My beats travel like a vortex, through your spine/ To the top of your cerebral cortex/ Make you feel like you bust a nut for raw sex/ Enter through your right ventricle clog up your bloodstream/ Now terminal, like Grand Central Station/ Program fat baselines, eye-no-vation/ Getting drunk like a fucking skunk on 5 year probation.......... (GZA): War of the masses, the outcome, disastrous/ Many of the victim family save they ashes/ A million names on walls engraved in plaques/ Those who went back, received penalties for the axe/ Another hard nigga torn, close ones gone/ Those who stray and fuck-up get slayed by the song......... (Masta Killa): The track renders helpless and suffers from multiple stab wounds/ and leaks sounds that's heard/ 93 million miles away from came one/ to represent the Nation, this is a gathering/ of the masses that come to pay respects to the Wu-Tang Clan/ As we engage in battle, the crowd now screams in rage/ The high chief Jamel-I-Reef take the stage/ Light is provided through sparks of energy/ from the mind that travels in rhyme form/ Giving sight to the blind/ The dumb are mostly intriged by the drum/ Death only one can save shell from/ This relentless attack of the track spares none.......... (Ghostface Killah): Yo! Yo! Yo, fuck that, look at all these crab niggas laid back/ Lampin' like the million black womens on my mans rag/ Codeine was forced in your drink/ You had a Navy Green salamander fiend, bitches never heard you scream/ You two-faces, scum of the slum, I got your whole body numb/ Blowing like Shalamar in 81/ Sound convincing, thousand dollar court by convention/ Hairs like Sonny Liston, get fly permission holder/ Fuck it, I'ma fasten your wig, bad luck/ I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch/ it's me, black trouble through Ali/ Came to trees we like the Genovese/ Is that so? Caesar needs the greens/ It's Earth, 93 million miles from the first/ Rough turbulence, the waveburst, split the magahertz.......... (Raekwon): Aiyyo decimation, gun in your mouth talk, verbal foul off/ Connect thoughts to make my man Shai walk/ Swift notarizer, Wu-Tang, all up in the high-riser/ New York gang adviser world tranquilizer/ Just the dosage, delegate my Clan with explosives/ While, my pen blow lines ferocious/ Mediterranean, see ya, the number one traffic/ sit down the beat God, then delegate the God to see God/ The swift chancellor, Lex, the white-gold tarantula/ Track truck diesel, play the weed God, substantiala Max mostly, undivided, then slide it, its sickening/ Guaranteed to make you jump like Rod Strickland.