(feat. Yumi)



[Intro: Shyheim]

It's like, you know, I'm the heart of the shit

I'm here to bring Wu-Tang back

Come on, All in Together, one time, ya'll

Come on, man, cuz other niggaz is takin' our light

What's good?



[Chorus: Shyheim]

Ya'll niggaz out to get the hoes

Me, I'm out to get the dough

Cuban Linx hangin' low, that's what I'm used to

Slingin' thousand grams of snow

Burnin' down pounds of 'dro

Emptying rounds from the four, that's what I'm used to



[Hook: Shyheim]

GZA went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?)

Ghost went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (huh?)

Dirty went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?)

But I'm fuckin' with the RZA, cuz, that's what I'm used to



[Shyheim]

I keep it one hundred across the board, with my comrade

Love is loyalty, you better have it for your comrade

I let a nigga, have it real bad for my comrade

When the odds was against me, all I had was my comrade

He lift me up, even when my problems was heavy

And now come, the drama was the deadly, my comrade was ready

At all costs, we will talk, we will boss

Four hits on the Newport, make thoughts on New York

And how we can turn it up, they fake niggaz burn it up

If it ain't about a buck, it won't benefit us

When I, take in a risk, fuck that bum bitch

Fuck that "we grew up with son", shit

Anybody can get it, that's not in the immediate circle

I media hurt you, I'm a New York

Parolee bitch, would not be in person

Been standin' on two door, sit deck to say this

Many shall come but only a few shall be chose

And no shows in, and sworn through, open

To the brotherhood, where we still together when nothing's gold



[Chorus]



[Hook: Shyheim]

Meth went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?)

Rae went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (huh?)

Deck went and got a whole, bunch of new producers (what?)

But I'm fuckin' with the RZA, cuz... (That's what I'm used ta)



[Yumi]

Yo, wear my intelligence on my melenin

Cuz I'm better than these chickenheads

Chicken dancin' bitches that you lettin' in your vortex

Beauty make you want more sex

See me up, take me out the game, you forget

I got a dream, you can't see it, cuz you need more specs

And my style can fight the storm, like it was raw tech

Playin' mami, give me the mic, bitch, go to your room

You don't deserve to hold this mic, cuz, you don't know what you doing

Chicks thinkin' they be rhyming, I don't understand it, cuz

How rap's on the politics, and block is gan'd up

I keep it street, like a man hose, guttering curb

Doing me, don't give a fuck about none of you herbs

I'm just Yumi, I'm given you, all of me

Hated on, by too many, too oftenly

That's why I take little steps, and move cautiously

Check your man, he the one who be, callin' me

These other niggaz got a bunch of/ bum ass producers

Writin' rhymes for these bitches, cuz that's what they used to (what?)

But Shy went and got a fuckin' dime, to let loose cuz (what?)

Spittin' on a beat by the Kill Bill producer



[Outro: Shyheim]

Uh... problem... P.U

Don't ever forget nobody else

You know... Shyheim.. Yumi..

R-Z-A on the track.. Shaolin, we back!