So, what's up, man?
Coolin', man
Chillin' chillin'?
Yo, you know I had to call, you know why, right?
Why?
Because, yo, I never ever call and ask you to play somethin', right?
Yeah
You know what I wanna hear, right?
What you wanna hear?
I wanna hear that Wu-Tang joint
Wu-Tang again?
Ah, yeah, again and again

Wu-Tang Clan comin' at ya
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid (protect your neck, kid)
Watch your step, kid (first to set it off)
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid (The Inspectah Deck)

I smoke on the mic like "Smokin' Joe" Frazier
The hellraiser, raisin' Hell with the flavor
Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan
Swingin' through your town like your neighborhood Spider-Man
So, uh, tick-tock and keep tickin'
While I get you flippin' off the sh- I'm kickin'
The Lone Ranger, code red, danger
Deep in the dark with the art to rip the charts apart
The vandal, too hot to handle
You battle, you're sayin' "Goodbye," like Tevin Campbell
Roughneck, Inspectah Deck's on the set
The rebel, I make more noise than heavy metal

The way I make the crowd go wild
Sit back, relax, won't smile
Rae got it goin' on, pal
Call me the rap assassinator
Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger
And I'ma get mad deep like a threat
Blow up your project
Then take all your assets
'Cause I came to shake the frame in half
With the thoughts that bomb shit like math
So if you wanna try to flip, yo, flip on the next man
'Cause I'll grab the clip and
Hit you with 16 shots and more, I got
Goin' to war with the meltin' pot, akh'

It's the Method Man, for short, Mr. Meth
Movin' on your left, ah
And set it off, get it off, let it off like a gat
I wanna break full, cock me back
Small change, they puttin' shame in the game
I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame
And like fame, my style'll live forever
Niggas crossin' over like they don't know no better
But I do, true, can I get a, "Soo?"
'Nough respect due to the 1-6-ooh
I mean, "Oh," yo, check out the flow
Like the Hudson, or PCP when I'm dustin'
Niggas off because I'm hot like sauce
The smoke from the lyrical blunt make me-

Ooh, what? Grab my nut, get screwed
Ow, here comes my Shaolin style
True B-A-ba-B-Y-U
To my crew with the, "Soo"

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid (come on, baby, baby, come on, baby, baby, come on, baby, baby, come on)
Watch your step, kid (protect your neck)
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid (yo, you best protect your neck)
Watch your step, kid

First things first, man, you're f- with the worst
I'll be stickin' pins in your head like a f- nurse
I'll attack any nigga who slack in his mack
Come fully packed with a fat, rugged stack
Shame on you when you stepped through to
The Ol' Dirty Bastard straight from the Brooklyn Zoo
And I'll be damned if I let any man come to my center
You enter the winter
Straight up and down, now sh- is packed jam
You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him, man
The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinkin', Ason Unique
Rollin' with the night of the creeps
Niggas be rollin' with a stash, ain't sayin' cash
Bite my style, I'll bite your mother- ass

For cryin' out loud, my style is wild, so book me
Not long is how long that this rhyme took me
Ejectin' styles from my lethal weapon
My pen that rocks from here to Oregon
Here's more again, catch it like a psycho flashback
I love gats, if rap was a gun, you wouldn't bust back
I come with sh- that's all types of shapes and sounds
And where I lounge is my stompin' grounds
I give a order to my peeps across the water
To go and snatch up props all around the border
And get far like a shootin' star
'Cause who I are is livin' the life of Pablo Escobar
Point blank as I kick the square biz
There it is, you're f- with pros and there it goes

Yo, chill with the feedback, Black, we don't need that
It's 10 o'clock, ho, where the f- is your seed at?
Feelin' mad hostile, wearin' Aeropostale
Flowin' like Christ when I speaks the gospel
Stroll with the holy roll, then attack the globe
With the buckest, style, the ruckus
Ten-times-ten, men committin' mad sin
Turn the other cheek and I'll break your f- chin
Slayin' boom-bangs like African drums (he'll be)
Comin' around the mountain when I come
Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment
My Clan increase like Black unemployment
Yeah, another one down
Ge-Gecka-Genius, take us the f- out of here

The Wu is too slammin' for these cold killer labels
Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel
Be doin' artists in like Cain did Abel
Now they money's gettin' stuck to the gum under the table
That's what you get when you misuse what I invent
Your empire falls and you lose every cent
For tryin' to blow up a scrub
Now that thought is just as bright as a twenty-watt light bulb
Should've pumped it when I rocked it
Niggas so stingy, they got short arms and deep pockets
This goes on in some companies
With majors, they're scared to death to pump these
First of all, who's your A&R?
A mountain climber who plays an electric guitar?
But he don't know the meanin' of dope
When he's lookin' for a suit-and-tie rap that's cleaner than a bar of soap
And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight
Matter fact, bring out the girls and let's have a mud fight

(Huh, huh)
(Huh)
(Huh)
(Yo, yo, yo, yo)

You best protect your neck (watch your step, kid)
You best protect your neck (watch your step, kid)
You best protect your neck (watch your step, kid)
You best protect your neck (watch your step, kid) Writer/s: Clifford Smith, Corey Woods, Dennis David Coles, Gary E. Grice, Jason Hunter, Lamont Hawkins, Robert F. Diggs, Russell T. Jones
Publisher: Downtown Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind