Of Mics and Men

[Intro: RZA]

Yeah

Ten G mics and shit

[Verse 1: RZA]

Mics and men, books and pen

Decent rhymes, hooks and lines

One time, where do we begin?

The gritty rugged lands of Shaolin

Where proud men went from moving crack rocks to moving mountains

Moving crowds and making mothers proud now

Walk out of places where our people wasn't allowed in

I took a hi-hat, a snare, and a kick drum

A bass, a G-note, turned it into hit songs

Now every we make forty G’s, nigga please, Killa Bees

Pay a quarter mill for the emcees at night, aight?

I kick it like a Nike flight

25 years later, who thought that we could be greater?

The name of Wu-Tang gets spread on both sides of the equator

The RZArector grew to be a movie director

Still smoke blunts with the Meth and rock mics with Inspectah

Still crash bars with Shallah

And my brother Divine, he still push the flyest cars

But he added a yacht to his repertoire

And they marvel how the Jugger still caked with Tony Starks

While The RZA and U-God still shake the fatal darts

Cappadonna try to put a hole inside your heart

Jamel Irief push that chess piece across the board

With the sound of a sword bein' released from its sheath

And Ol' Dirty Shimmy Shimmy Ya from beneath

And Power still got that rugged gear in the streets

It’s Wu-Tang's "Mics and Men", we Killer Bees

Mathematics stay craft-matic on the beats

[Verse 2: Cappadonna]

I'm in the MKX with the opposite sex

Trying to take her from the suburb back to the projects

Money, chicks, fast cars, that's my obsess

I ain't obligated to nothing except contracts

Honey do you do dirty, niggas is still contacts

Lovin' the babes daily, feedin' 'em blowback

Can’t let nothing walk by but a bubble ass

Get money, pop bottles, then we double the cash

Slip by the shop, other niggas’ll fall back

See Divine on the ocean in the yacht

Flip money bags when our Hulu shit pop

Ferragamo belt with the Gucci bought

Yo, you can't tell me nothing bout the Coogi, hah

When I was the one out there making the shit hot

When you was in the spot, you was just a young snot

I was in the ball game pitching the rock

Wu-Tang forever, we always on grind

Like Diddy told you, we ain’t never gon' stop

[Verse 3: Masta Killa]

Man, have you not heard that one word given will have you missing?

Listen to the fly piano, Wu-Gambino soprano

Deck and Dino, owners of their own casino

RZA keynote, Stoudemire, young Amar'e

Flow hotter than the Kalahari

Skipping off the rim of the snare

Every rhyme line rich without the line combined

With the power refined

See my mind shine brighter than Einstein

Shallah pen bleed then the dawn is my time

So run, tell a friend, you can check it on Showtime

It's Wu, Mics and Men