(...the skill of Shaolin)
 RZA: Yes the good life, you know *clinks glass*
 GZA: What the fuck is that, hell's angels?
 *Ol Dirty singing in the background*
 [Ahh Mr. Bobby Steels, Tony Starks on line one for Mr. Bobby Steels]
 RZA: Steels over here, Steels over here
 Peace, Starks what's going on baby?
 Yeah everything is lovely over here.
 GZA: No shoes and no shirt on, sure the hills is where it's at?
 RZA: Yeah the, the Maximillion is sure here
 I'm over here with Noodles and I got Lucky Hands with me
 GZA: You got soul, R&B, classics? All that shit right?
 RZA: Yeah... Grey Ghost right in front of me right now
 Grey Ghost standing right here.
 Yeah he has a briefcase; ohh, OK, OK I got you.
 Aight thanks. *phone clicks*
 GGh: Bobby Steels.
 GZA: Huh?
 RZA: Mr. Grey Ghost, good to see you good to see you good to see you.
 GGh: A pleasure.
 RZA: So is everything OK, is everything working as we planned?
 GGh: Everything is working out, very nicely.
 Do you have the cash, twenty-thousand dollars?
 GZA: Be nice to have a little breeze.
 Breeze on by fuck the cops.
 RZA: Do we have the cash? We don't have to talk that, hey hey
 GZA: Get the fuck outta here with that hell's angels bullshit!
 RZA: We got the cash we know Cash Rules Everything Around this Motherfucker
 Umm, let me ask you...
 GZA: The fuck outta here!
 GGh: Do you have the full amount? Twenty thousand as we agreed upon?
 GZA: Fucking hell's bastards.
 RZA: Let me ask you a question Mr. Grey Ghost --
 Do you know a a Don Rodriguez?
 GGh: I know no such person.
 RZA: Don Rodriguez from the Bronx? Don Rodriguez?
 GGh: I don't know who you're talking about.
 RZA: I think you do know him cause your fuckin friend Don
 is down at one-twenty precinct right now singing
 his fuckin ass like a fuckin bird.
 GZA: Life of a drug dealer
 RZA: The fuckin guys is comin
 GGh: Do you believe him?

 Killah hills 10304

 Restaurants on a stake-out
 So order the food to take out
 Chaos, outside a spark steakhouse
 Maintain the power, I feel the deal's gone sour
 Nigga Mr. Wedding, late a fuckin half hour
 And his man who bought land from Tony Starks
 While he was contractin bricklayin jobs in city parks
 he's a loan shark, bitches raise a grand to a finger
 In a garment that's stretched, got it sewn like Singer
 Cause all that talk blasphemy this kid after me
 for the heist, in a Burlington Coat Factory
 Fuck it, he turned snake so my nigga Cash stole his copilot
 who used to drive like sacks of blow on this remote
 area, we label Dead Man's Island
 Two hundred miles South from Thailand
 Right off the docks, I got the various custom made yachts
 Burial plots, for my niggaz hit with fatal shots
 There's no need for us to spray up the scene
 I use less men, more powerful shit for my team
 Like my man Muhammad from Afghanistan
 Grew up in Iran, the nigga runs a neighborhood newsstand
 A wild Middle Eastern, bomb specialist
 Intiated, at eleven to be a terrorist
 He set bombs in bottles of champagne
 And when niggaz popped the cork, niggaz lost half they brains
 Like this ex-worker, tried to smuggle a half a key
 in his left leg, even underwent surgery
 They say his pirate limp gave him away
 As the feds rushed him, comin through U.S. Customs
 Now look whose on the witness stand singin, a well known soprano
 A smash hit from Sammy Gravano
 here's the plan minimum for the hit, two hundred grand
 Half time at the game blastin niggaz out the stands
 The sharp-shooters hit the prosecutor, judges are sent
 Photographs of they wives takin baths
 Along with briefcase filled with one point five, that's the bribe
 Take it or commit suicide
 First rule, anyone who schemes on the gold in Syria
 I want they small intestines ripped from the interior
 I got a price for those jewels, ship em freight cargo
 Don't forget to launder the cream through Wells Fargo
 Ricans processing for the call of Costa Rica
 Four hundred barrels of ether
 Two hundred pounds of reefer
 and fifty immigrants with fake Visas

 Life of a drug dealer
 Killah hills, 10304
 The saga continues