Wu-Tang

[Chorus: U-God] You ain't heard us in a minute, you heard us in a minute, man (Wu-Tang!) I keep banging on you niggas, finger on my trigger, man (Wu-Tang!) [Verse 1: U-God] I love bankrolls, stank hoes, camera shots, Kangols, bangles Pink records, check it, yeah, I make those More paper than Kinko's, check my lingo, bingo On my face, honey, not a wrinkle, trinkle My twinkle twinkle, make your toenails crinkle Twist up a dinkle, and honey, let's mingle, jingle When the nightfall, I'm tight with my white walls The greedy pain, draining on my life force Behold the pale white horse, the hype loss with tight jaws Fight law off, cuz I don't like ya'll Huh, I'm from the tar pits, the hard target to squash the market You're brainwashed, watch the starships I make cars flip, Deck bomb atomic, Islamic arms Kiss the comet, this time, he's gone I grip the don, rip arms out the socket, cock it Fly logic, now watch me sky rocket, watch it Hot as the tropic get, bulletproof asaphogus Steel cage confidence, burn it on a floppy disc Swerve the metropolis, my whole team in back of me You just a half of ki, I'm a coke factory [Chorus: U-God] You ain't heard us in a minute You heard us in a minute, man (Wu-Tang!) I keep banging on you niggas Finger on my trigger, man (Wu-Tang!) You ain't heard us in a minute You heard us in a minute, man (Wu-Tang!) I keep banging on you niggas Finger on my trigger, man (Wu-Tang!) [Verse 2: Method Man] Yo, thank god it's Friday, like it's just me and my chick Cruising the highway, she twisting my piff You see I'm living proof that crime pay, the type that go at a bitch The type to shoot the gift, and blow every clip I know this money like the back of my hand, you get the back of my hand Just like a fiend who took a package and ran Po-po be hopping out of passenger vans, harassing niggas in Park Hill For marked bills, ratchets and grams So I move like I'm ducking a charge, I'm trying to set up shop Get this gwop, get the fuck out of dodge Most my niggas like to puff in the car, most these hoes emotionally scared And keep the works stuffed in they bras This is ghetto rap, where the pot be calling the kettle black My bullets trynna see where they head is at, I'm heading back To the slums, back to the block, I got the Clan on my back And you know we heading back to the top, nigga [Chorus: U-God] You ain't heard us in a minute You heard us in a minute, man (Wu-Tang!) I keep banging on you niggas Finger on my trigger, man (Wu-Tang!) You ain't heard us in a minute You heard us in a minute, man (Wu-Tang!) I keep banging on you niggas Finger on my trigger, man (Wu-Tang!)