[Intro: Wu-Tang Clan]
Good Morning Vietnam!
Yeah, good morning to all you motherfuckin' knotty-headed niggas
Word to the camouflage large niggas
Bitch, where the fuck is my bottle?
Bring that fuckin' meth in here!
Yo, yo, yo
Now we gonna drink some good night drank, get you goin'
Yo, yo, yo, yo!
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Champion gear that I rock, you get your boots knocked
Then attack ya like a pit, then lock shit down
As I come and freaks the sound, hardcore
But givin' you more and more like "Ding!"
Nah, shorty, get you open like six packs
Killa Beez attack, flippin' what? Murder one phat tracks, aight? I kick it like a Nike Flight
Word life, I get that ass robbed on spite
Check the method from Bedrock
'Cause I rock your head to bed just like rockin' what? Twin Glocks!
Shake the ground while my beats just break ya down
Raw sound, goin' to war right now
So, yo, bombin', We-Usually Take-All-Niggas-Garments
Save your breath before I bomb it!
[Verse 2: Method Man]
I be that insane nigga from the psycho ward
I'm on the trigger, plus I got the Wu-Tang sword
So how you figure that you can even fuck with mine?
A-yo, RZA! Hit me with that shit one time!
And pull a foul, niggas, save the beef for the cow
I'm milkin' this ho, this is my show, Tical!
The fuck you wanna do for this mic piece, duke?
I'm like a sniper, hyper off the ginseng root
PLO Style, buddha monks with the owl
Now, who's the fuckin' man? Meth-Tical
[Break: Method Man / Ghostface Killah (Inspectah Deck)]
On the chessbox
(Yo, yo)
[Verse Three: Ghostface Killah, Inspectah Deck]
Yes, Yes y’all, I got stacks, wall to wall (Ladies and gentleman I hit you with that new shit)
Like ???, nigga make a move like a baby crawl (The rebel, watch me get mental with the music)
Anxious, Wu-Tang believes in extortion, bossin’
Living out my name’ll be costin’
Individuals get played inside a circle
Ghostface be playin’ that shit that jigga-jerk you
Enjoy, now I’m here to scare your thoughts, black
Don’t move, the god got a nickel-plated MAC
On the real, I checked mad niggas back to back, and
Shit is getting real out here, so start packin’
While I be housin’ the track and terrorisin’
Bob and weave on snakes, the face of prizin’
What? What? You know my style just like your father
Ghost be filled with drama, plus more horror
Mic check, 1, 2, rugged to the tooth
You get shot, now who else wants to get nuked?
I thought so, it’s like that high, around the clock
And whatnot, knockin’ niggas off as I call shots
Lock your doors, all doors, Ghost is crazy
Last seen blowin’ shit up, got bagged in Haiti
[Verse Four: GZA]
My clan is thick like plaster, bust ya, slash ya
Slit a nigga back like a Dutch Master Killer
Style jumped off in Killah Hilla
I was the thriller in the Ali-Frazier Manila
I came down with phat tracks that combine and interlock
Like gettin' smashed by a cinder block
Paow! Now it's all over
Niggas seein' pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars and green clovers
