[Chorus: GZA]
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets

[Verse 1: GZA]
I was a young one at the time, but started mic trippin'
Had rhythm like Ali when he was rope skipping
I got crazy when I heard the break beat
I used to lose it on n***as on 4th and 8th Street
They couldn't stop the attack once I moved forward
Many was drawn back, assault was seen awkward
Only armed with the bow and a mad flow
Poisonous arrows on a mark, that was set to go
Traveling at high speeds, towards a target
I never hit bystanders in crowded markets
Documenters catch this most intimate footage
In the center, they come close, label it the hooded
Remarkable clips of an uncut episode
They was given the safe, but never was left the code
Close up of those who have paved the road
Invincible armor like that n***a we call The Toad

[Chorus: GZA]
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets
[Verse 2: Prodigal Sunn]
Havoc on the block, shots from the ratchet, sizzle pop
Slugs spinnin' out of control, bodies drop
You know the saying in the hood, fuck the cops
Certified on the clock, young thugs with metal Glocks
It takes place on the planet in rocks
Take nothing for granted, raised by these thieves and bandits
The enchanted, sticky green keeps my eyes slanted
Hard times comin' up in the ghetto, but the Sunn manage
Watch me take advantage, get it, split it, panoramic
The notes I quote water like the great Atlantic
Never catch me frantic, swift with the antics
Bitch n***as vanish, n***as, they run rapid
Sun of a Man, son of the sun, son of a gun
Breaded from the slums of each one and teach one
What's done is done, son, the game is made
Stay sharp like switchblades, continue to get paid

[Chorus: GZA]
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets

[Verse 3: Masta Killa]
You know a motherfuckin' hit when it split your wig back
Young Gatling, strapping a .38 revolver
It's going down, wait for the sound, my soldiers rally 'round
Ninja men blending in with the surrounding
'Nough gunmen, 'nough Flatbush yardmen strapped with the vest
No pussy test the God, the grounds is well-held
Illegal Desert Eagle, cadaver dog
Search for the body that's lost, of course it's BK
You heard n***as got killed for sheik coats and big ropes
Legendary steez that sold coke
Some blocks that's still hot from shots popped back in '88
The black gate where son lay, never made the paper
Just another caper pulled by a masked killer, broad daylight
Crown Heights, summer Fahrenheit, heat blazing
Cops on the beat, stop the money flow of the street
My dough is whole wheat, the fam gotta eat
[Chorus: GZA]
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets
This is hip-hop
MCs get busy, it's not pop
You front and you get dropped
You're listening to slanged-out goodies in Timberlands and hoodies
With the rhythm that came from the streets

[Outro: GZA]
Come on
This is hip-hop
Come on
Come on
This is hip-hop
Come on
Come on
This is hip-hop
Come on
Come on