[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Call up the Hollow Bone Syndrome line
Select suite 9, face this, watch his whole face lift
Bracelets, murder n***as luxurious, banks I was draped
Caked out, half a million dollars in coats
Flows is genetic
The Corleone connection in all selection
Stock brokers with coats on make coke suggestions
All twin glizzies, fireman Gucci boots on, sideways action
Murder n***as' stereo
Cash stackin' like Clinton, rentin' his mother crib out
We sit and organize the Bill of Rights, get lit
Drugs that Hendrix was on, conversatin' like the Dutch
Richie Conaway, Goodfellas who honor Rae
Flows that blow thru your Roland, holdin' everybody down
Trip up n***as, in clicks, we posin'
Rock black half the year
Half my n***as sittin' upstairs
Takin' pictures of ya'll n***as' wack gear

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)]
Listen to the (Clap)
Real n***as (Clap)
Rich n***as (Clap)
My bitches (Clap)
If you love pussy, then y'all n***as (Clap)
If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap)
If you real fucked up, then ya'll n***as (Clap)
If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap)
Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all n***as (Clap)
(Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap
Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap
(Big shit, thunder!) Get around that!
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Yo – porcelain floors with a dog named Ginger
Bottle cap n***as that rhyme, we the winners
Then slide through your hood in hoods
Me, Cliff, Patrick, Gary Grice and my man, C. Woods
Holdin' a gorilla, two n***as gotta hold that shit
One shot and ya mans on it
The little kids watch from down the block
Jewelry box, murder hop, six stash botch, fit hit the rare spots
Spit at the statue with cash and throw dough at it
Fuck bitches raw, why? 'Cause I'm a pro at it
Big birds danglin'
Cameras snatch, flash, then pop from every angle and
2000 Mark Damon'in

[Chorus: Method Man]
Clap ya hands now, clap
Clap ya hands now, clap, clap
Clap, clap ya hands now, clap
Clap, clap ya hands now
People, clap ya hands

[Verse 3: Method Man]
Yo, yo – I drink till I'm drunk
Smoke skunk, with my stinkin' ass, smell the funk
Eekin' out the pores, cum stain, shitty drawers
Pissin' down ya elevator shaft, no class, writin' graff' on ya walls
It be us, fuck ya law
N***as, my cause is "because"
No yin to my yang, it's a Black thing
Used to be in chains, now we snatch chains
Took the crack game, applied that to the rap game, y'all
Pop quiz, now, what artist hits the hardest?
Get down with the syndrome – retarded
I think it was them swordsmen
Pushin' chess pieces on the boards in
Take it to the square, this ain't no Yakub affair
Or a New World Disorder
Got us–fuckin' the coal miner's daughter
That y'all, but not us
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah, (U-God)]
Listen to the (Clap)
Real n***as (Clap)
Rich n***as (Clap)
My bitches (Clap)
If you love pussy, then y'all n***as (Clap)
If you love to get ate, then ya'll ladies (Clap)
If you real fucked up, then ya'll n***as (Clap)
If you bare witness to Allah, y'all (Clap)
Aiyyo, you see me on the big screen, y'all n***as (Clap)
(Dance with a gangster lean) Y'all – clap
Brimmed hats, sloppy automatics that–clap
(Big shit, thunder!) Get around that!

[Outro: kung-fu sample]
During this time, I intend to teach you the Shaolin code
The rules and commandments
To void deceit, cruelty, and unkindness
Always help the weak
Never despise the poor
Always respect yourself