You're... despicable

 Are you, my judge?

 It's just... you should be punished
 I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?

 Verse One: U-God

 Yo, yeah, yo, yo
 Yo, yeah
 Check these high hats sting things moving through the rubbish
 Party robust, rec room style for you brothers
 Time's ticking, eruptments conduct
 Entering one funk before the drum dry up
 Dial, style, jab vocab slow
 Alphabet run, construction voice might blow
 Tap dance swelling Hemingway novel model
 For a breather, dirty reefer hide your bottle
 Cut down, come with something that's round and profound
 Blood brothers people of colors we get down
 Watch this fly, force feed things being said
 Nine Diagram acid black evil red left his
 mic half a dangle, seriouser man
 My mic clapper def wish, everlasting plan
 heavenly God body, know me as the cleaner
 Night champion, old villain style seem a
 kiss of spider, to God saga why bother
 Godfather talk drama, fly swatters

 Number two, Chao San Poi

 Verse Two: The Genius/GZA

 This Wu shit be hard to kill and full blown
 Rhymes filtered through the net before words hit the chrome
 Pro tools editing tracks that's rough
 Cause a jam without a live MC isn't enough
 So we attack this, and grab all within reach
 Throw a scrap back to niggaz - perfect your own speech
 Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands
 used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands
 Niggaz look on, and get hooked on this mic line
 Real thin and shift through the pipeline
 LP's delivered with style and potential
 Niggaz flowin smoothly in a sequential
 order, revealin hidden tape recorders
 Stashed inside pockets of those who lack aura

 Verse Three: Raekwon the Chef

 Twist the DAC up, them niggaz with math is back up
 Watch he act up, fifty-two block track we slap up
 Playground maneuver, jet to Vancouver like this
 Two Kahluas one chick she's German Luger
 Get the shit on, light a fresh pack, bust it open
 with the seal on Dunn, deal on this, with the real on
 Next, Rocky, ring, call it to Decatur
 Slang soufleer home decorater, player
 Mic immigrants, nine of us formed resemblance
 Somethin flashy, God dead-armed is nasty
 Peep the ornaments enough to make Shorty-Wop stare at me yo
 He killed the God might as well throw a chair at me

 Verse Four: Prince Rakeem/RZA

 Yo MC's wonder what's hip-hop thunder
 Tell you the truth it's just one nation under a groove
 Gettin down for the funk of it
 Like Fred Sanford in the biz...
 Yo one held his paraphenalia, a Wu memorabilia
 Mailed by the fortune teller, tried to tell ya
 bout the group recruit we scoop up CREAM like Breyer's
 Then spread across the globe like telephone wires
 Thirty-six assorted, Shaolin imported
 chambers been recorded, you're fuckin with the loops
 Time for royalty audit
 Fabulous establishment metabolism, Blackfoot Indian
 Cherokee started out smaller than amphibian
 Then grew to a physical body with five meridians
 As the pendulum swings closer to the millenium
 two thousand, wickedness is spread amongst my citizen
 I got a muscle the industrial to make a hustle
 and politic with Leo and Russell
 When niggaz is still rushin we'll brush you

 He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives

 Verse Five: Masta Killa

 Thoughts are contained in the trenches of the brain
 ignite, blowin the mic to Arabian heights
 As I recite this medley, niggaz couldn't fuck with the
 deadly ground I hold down
 Classical gangland style, shots hit the ceiling
 Panic and confusion echoes through the building
 Continuing to build, I strive for perfection
 Driven by the will to live, glocks I hold
 Shots I give, while searchers of rescue teams
 look for means of survival and who's liable
 for this harrowing experience
 You scream for the extreme, fiend for the cap
 and proceeds of the Wu-Tang Academy
 To fuck up your anatomy with assault and battery

 Number two, Chao San Poi
 Number two, Chao San Poi
 He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives

 Number one, Yen Chang Wa
 He's an adulterer, don't trust him
 Number two, Chao San Poi
 Number two, Chao San Poi
 He's a womanizer, but he's an expert at throwing knives

 I despise your killing, and raping
 You're... despicable

 Are you, my judge?

 It's just... you should be punished
 I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready?
 I despise your killing, and raping
 You're... despicable

 Are you, my judge?

 It's just... you should be punished
 I'm going to chop off your arm, so are you ready