Hand Clap

[Verse 1: Raekwon]

Call up the Hollow Bone Syndrome line

Select suite 9, face this, watch his whole face lift

Bracelets, murder niggas luxurious, banks I was draped

Caked out, half a million dollars in coats

Flows is genetic

The Corleone connection in all selection

Stock brokers with coats on make coke suggestions

All twin glizzies, fireman Gucci boots on, sideways action

Murder niggas' stereo

Cash stackin' like Clinton, rentin' his mother crib out

We sit and organize the Bill of Rights, get lit

Drugs that Hendrix was on, conversatin' like the Dutch

Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae

Flows that blow thru your Roland, holdin' everybody down

Trip up niggas, in clicks, we posin'

Rock black half the year

Half my niggas sittin' upstairs

Takin' pictures of ya'll niggas' wack gear

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)]

Listen to the (Clap)

Real niggas (Clap)

Rich niggas (Clap)

My bitches (Clap)

If you love pussy, then y'all niggas (Clap)

If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap)

If you real fucked up, then ya'll niggas (Clap)

If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap)

Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all niggas (Clap)

(Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap

Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap

(Big shit, thunder!) Get around that!

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]

Yo – porcelain floors with a dog named Ginger

Bottle cap niggas that rhyme, we the winners

Then slide through your hood in hoods

Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man, C. Woods

Holdin' a gorilla, two niggas gotta hold that shit

One shot and ya mans on it

The little kids watch from down the block

Jewelry box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the rare spots

Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it

Fuck bitches raw, why? 'Cause I'm a pro at it

Big birds danglin'

Cameras snatch, flash, then pop from every angle and

2000 Mark Damon'in

[Chorus: Method Man]

Clap ya hands now, clap

Clap ya hands now, clap, clap

Clap, clap ya hands now, clap

Clap, clap ya hands now

People, clap ya hands

[Verse 3: Method Man]

Yo, yo – I drink till I'm drunk

Smoke skunk, with my stinkin' ass, smell the funk

Eekin' out the pores, cum stain, shitty drawers

Pissin' down ya elevator shaft, no class, writin' graff' on ya walls

It be us, fuck ya law

Niggas, my cause is "because"

No yin to my yang, it's a Black thing

Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains

Took the crack game, applied that to the rap game, y'all

Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?

Get down with the syndrome – retarded

I think it was them swordsmen

Pushin' chess pieces on the boards in

Take it to the square, this ain't no Yakub affair

Or a New World Disorder

Got us–fuckin' the coal miner's daughter

That y'all, but not us

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)]

Listen to the (Clap)

Real niggas (Clap)

Rich niggas (Clap)

My bitches (Clap)

If you love pussy, then y'all niggas (Clap)

If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap)

If you real fucked up, then ya'll niggas (Clap)

If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap)

Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all niggas (Clap)

(Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap

Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap

(Big shit, thunder!) Get around that!

[Outro: kung-fu sample]

During this time, I intend to teach you the Shaolin code

The rules and commandments

To void deceit, cruelty, and unkindness

Always help the weak

Never despise the poor

Always respect yourself