[Intro: Fists of Fury film clip]
"Hold it!
Now you get out of here, I'm warning you"
"You bastards can't push us around – you wanna fight?"
"I'll take you on"
[Intro: Raekwon]
That nigga's twisted
Stop playin with that clip, man
Close them fuckin' blinds too, man, y'knahmsayin?
Yo, Dava, man, get out of the stove, man!
Get away from the stove, nigga!
Stop playin', man! The fuck is you talkin 'bout?
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
I'm in the crib, watchin' Larry King Live, the new Guccis on
Refrigerator, smoking some kush, this nigga salada
Swisher, becoming a roach, go get the glass ashtray
Pour the glass of Cru, tap the bottle, then toast
Bari took a sip for the cause, yeah, my son
Soon to be three, tried to fill his bottle then run
Then I got a Collect call, heard niggas down the block is fighting
Some nigga got knifed up brawling
Heard the kid was 19, little Infiniti too
His father worked up at the dealer, he love Wu
They tried him for his Louis', son wasn't having it though
Yeah, yeah, my nigga, the color of glue
Decided I'ma intervene, guess who tried to wild on me, my nigga?
This is like out of the blue
I'm in the Range stretch, jumped out, tucked the chain
Proceeded to talk to him, then you heard the heavy face slap
Think I broke my wrist, now I'm at the hospital, vexed
Fucked up my writing hand, that's my check
Now I wanna kill this little nigga true
Only thing stopping my gun flaming, 'cause he related to you
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Who? He ain't related to me!
Just that I knew him for like eighteen years
Until he violated, stealing my gear
My little homie, yo, he eat anything for me
Send him Uptown, he get bagged, yo, he never call me
Come home and still blow cats for me
Pump crack, stabbing all them hoodrat shorties
A live gunslinger, well known, born to dance when the heat is on
Stapleton days, shot his self in the groin
The gun went off, it looked like a flick when he fell to the floor
Holding his nuts, screaming, "Goddamnit!
Shit, I put one in my balls – what the fuck y'all looking at me for!?
Call the police, do somethin'!
Motherfuckers standin' around... watch when I get better
All hell's gonna be terror
Death to you... you!" he pointed at Red
I said, "Chill, that's fam duke
He put real work in that'd make you puke,"
Fuck that, but anyway – son, indeed, he stole two Polo rugbies
Swore to his dead mother, I couldn't take it, yo
Lord, I knocked out his teeth
Now he's rocking those false joints like everything's peace (Peace... peace...)
