Minds start to freeze at ease
It's the Wu-Tang, Killa Bees (on and on, nigga, oh)
Brooklyn Zoo, Manchus (yeah)
Coming at your avenue
36 chambers that are fitted in you
When you thought it couldn't happen
We gonna take you to a new level of hip-hop

Wu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Wu (yeah)
Zu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Zu

If you're from the East Coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu
Su, that's the call for your crew
If you're from the West Coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu
Su, that's the call for your crew (ah, Miser)

They call me Heat Miser, blue in my top, you're not wiser
The lyrical rhymer, I burn that ass like lava (espionage)
Magma, plus you can't bust my crust
They call me Road Runner, I leave that ass in the dust (aight)
I drink the heat from beneath the Earth's core (yeah)
Six million and fifty degrees, maybe more
Overground mounds, metallic minerals
I melt flesh, leaving motherfuckers in the mess
My crustal plate, you can't separate
My colossal force, blast, you're off course
Dry molten rock, I can flow non-stop
Condense with seawater, watch me spin like a top
For miles and miles deep, you can't endure the heat
Be the first to run or the last nigga sleep
I saw with the glasses, thick like molasses
Now I breathe and exhale the poison gasses

Wu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Wu (yeah)
Zu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Zu

Now take this, I hit you with the Drunken Dragon fist
Got the funk for your mind leaving niggas in bliss
I look deep into your eyes, digging in your soul
Pulling out the inner thoughts, read minds behold (uh)
I know exactly what you're thinking, I wait for you to blink (Drunken Dragon)
And I hit you with a round to make your ego start sinking (Drunken Dragon)
I send your wack ass back to class, learn something
So you can peep the real shit and you can stop fronting
On your phony block with your phony Glock until you slip
When niggas brung the drama they put Techs on your lips
Damn, son, I just thought about that shit
Now you wanna be a gangsta rapper, boy, you get the dick
The Drunken Dragon, coming at you
And if I hear you say Brooklyn Zu, I say, "Yo, who you, cuz?"

Wu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Wu
Zu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Zu (let me get that shit)

Back the fuck up before I use my gat
Spray two to your neck and four to your back
It's the hardcore warrior, straight from Medina
Look pon my face it shows no one meaner
Brooklyn Zu Killa Bees on the swarm
I be in your area so sound the alarm (su)
Monk's in the front, know not to fuck with Drunk
Knocking down niggas and the girl sees the lump
Shit is real, yes, I'm hitting hard like steel
I'm coming through your town so it's best that you peel
For real, yes, I get dirty with my skills
No slacks in my thoughts, no time for me to trip up
Niggas, you're crazy, I leave no fucking traces
When I put it on that ass you'll be disintegrated
Crazy lunatic with the style that's sick
Somebody in my clique is bound to set a pick
You're hit, by this trife shit that I fix
I'm just like the Devil, I don't play no tricks 'cause

Wu, gots like come on through
Su, that's the call for the Wu
Zu, gots like come on through (yeah)
Su, that's the call for the Zu

If you're from the East Coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu
Su, that's the call for your crew
If you're from the West Coast and you're down with Brooklyn Zu
Su, that's the call for your crew

(Yeah) 112
(Yeah) 441 Franklin Ave
(Yeah) 170 New York Ave
Peace to my brother (to my nigga Wack)
Yo, I love you niggas (peace to the gods, Wu-Tang)
My little nephew
Peace to my seeds (Killa Bees on the swarm)
Peace to my Earth (to my nigga, Buddha Monk) (all my niggas on New York Ave)
(Jaleel) 170
Do that shit, nigga, do that shit, nigga (yo, DD in the house)
I ain't forget ya (Drunken Dragon)
There's too many tables for you to fuck with me
Uh, uh, keep it real
(Manchus, motherfucker) pack steel
Don't fuck with me (representin' the Zu)
(To ODB) it's crazy real out there, yo
(Love you, nigga) protect yourself
Yo, Ol' Dirty Bastard, I love you, nigga
We love you
It's gonna happen, boy, just watch for my shit (word up)
Ain't that right, Manchu? Yeah (yeah, yeah)

Copyright: FRANAM PUB ADMINISTRATION
Writer(s): Ellery Chambers, Malike Anthony Lyde, Marcus Logan, Robert James