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      Protect Ya Neck

      Protect Ya Neck

      Wu-Tang Clan

      Album: Wu The Story Of The Wu-Tang Clan

      I smoke on the mic like smokin' Joe Frazier
      The hell-raiser, raising hell with the flavor
      Terrorize the jam like troops in Pakistan
      Swinging through your town like your neighborhood Spiderman
      So uhh, tick tock keep ticking
      While I get you flipping off the shit I'm kicking
      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 saying 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 going on pal, call me the rap assassinator
      Rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger
      And I'mma 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, go flip on the next man
      Cause I grab the clip, and
      Hit you with 16 shots and more, I got
      Going to war with the melting pot, hot
      
      It's the Method Man, for short "Mr. Meth"
      Moving on your left
      And set it off, get it off, let it off like a Gat
      I wanna break, fool, cock me back
      Small change, they putting shame in the game
      I take aim and blow that nigga out the frame
      And like Fame, my style will live forever
      Niggas crossing over, but they don't know no better
      But I do, true, can I get a "soo"
      Enough respect due to the one-six-ooh
      I mean ohh, 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 makes me eughck
      
      Ooh, what, grab my nut, get screwed
      Oww, here comes my Shaolin style
      True B-A-ba-B-Y-U
      To my crew with the "soo!"
      
      C'mon baby baby c'mon baby baby c'mon baby baby c'mon
      
      Yo, you best protect ya neck!
      
      First things first, man, you're fucking with the worst
      I'll be sticking pins in your head like a fucking curse
      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 Zu
      And I'll be damned if I let any man
      Come to my center, you enter the winter
      Straight up and down, that shit packed: jam
      You can't slam, don't let me get fool on him, man
      The Ol' Dirty Bastard is dirty and stinking
      Ason Unique rolling with the night of the creeps
      Niggas be rolling with a stash
      Ain't saying cash, bite my style I'll bite your motherfucking ass!
      
      For crying out loud, my style is wild, so book me
      Not long is how long that this rhyme took me
      Ejecting 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 shit that's all types of shapes and sounds
      And where I lounge is my stomping 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 shooting 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 fucking 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 fuck's your seed at?
      Feeling mad hostile, ran the apostle
      Flowing like Christ when I speaks the gospel
      Stroll with the holy roll then attack the globe with the buck us style
      The ruckus, 10 times 10 men committing mad sin
      Turn the other cheek and I'll break your fucking chin
      Slaying boom-bangs like African drums
      Coming around the mountain when I come
      Crazy flamboyant for the rap enjoyment
      My clan increase like black unemployment
      Yeah, another one down, G-g-genius
      Take us the fuck outta here
      
      The Wu is too slammin' for these Cold Killin' labels
      Some ain't had hits since I seen Aunt Mabel
      Be doing artists in like Cain did Abel
      Now they money's getting 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 trying to blow up a scrub
      Now that thought was just as bright as a 20-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 meaning of "dope"
      When he's looking for a "suit-and-tie rap"
      That's cleaner than a bar of soap
      And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight
      Matter of fact, bring out the girls and let's have a mud fight
      
      You best protect ya neck!
      You best protect ya neck!
      You best protect ya neck!
      You best protect ya neck!

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