Then And Now

Yeah... what? What?

Justice. yeah. check it out

I never hesitate to drop a verse, I rhyme first

Repeat it so often, it's well rehearsed

Rap stars, come through, rock the universe

I watch from afar just to see what they be doing first

Some was at they worst, dying of thirst

Others push through like the troops in Iraq, yo

But what did Bush do? See, I don't know a thing about politics

But flowing to the beat, is as dirty as my collar gets

The wildest child is gifted and talented

But change they style, will never wanna challenge it

You telling me to rhyme to the melody

I take time with my words like I'm in the spelling bee

If I don't make the grade, I don't make the record

Once that's accomplished, then my rhymes respect it

As long as we stay on track, and then

We can rhyme back to back, whatever, kid

One, two, we coming with the Wu

Three, four, we knocking at your door

Five, six, we eat them grits

Seven, to the eight, we don't hate

Nine to the ten, and we still wanna win.

(Wanna win, wanna win...)

Yo, I terrorize shorty with the Iron Palm

When I step on stage, I clutch the mic strong

That melody was flowing, while that beat was going

When the waves connect in my ear, that pen starts going

Cuz when I get on the mic, I rock it so ill

That's why they call me the Little Masta Kill'

I'm like rock and stone, put together

These dudes come in my face like "blah blah whatever"

So I had to hit the dude in the chest, B

These little fake MC's just want to test me

I thought I told you before, I'm not a toy

I'm just a young boy, what? Doing my thing

Brooklyn, Brooklyn, with the Brooklyn slang, come on

One, two, we coming with the Wu

Three, four, we knocking at your door

Five, six, we eat them grits

Seven, to the eight, we don't hate

Nine to the ten, and we still wanna win.

(Wanna win, wanna win...)

Wu-Tang Clan Killa Beez

Rock all my enemies, with the double D's

Double CD's, ride for the enemies

With the rocking-the-mic right, roll up with the typewrite

Rocking my Nike Flight, ballin' with the nice

And I'm rippin' the mic right, and you know who it is

It's the Young kid P, from the Brooklyn side

Brooklyn's Finest, Brownsville

Knew our attack, and what the gats do, Plaza, all day, baby

Yeah... can't lose, and we still gon' win forever

Young Godz forever

Peace to the Gods and the Earths forever

Kareem Just, Shamel Irief, the Young Prince

Yeah, yeah, Allah Just you know how do this thing, man