[Verse 1: Method Man]
Uh oh you shoulda give me this beat.. I woulda... What?! Hold on, lemme see if I got something for this... no no no no lemme see. Lemme see

Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh uh oh. Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh uh oh
Crime scenes, coppers and sirens, helicopters and high beams
The tensions is rising, fiends keeping their pipe clean
This is what life mean? A dollar and a dream everybody wants nice things
The kid was only nineteen, holding his chest now he's fighting
For his last breath, he's seeing death it's frightening
The grip on the ghetto is tightening, you try to do the right thing they do you just like King
Now I can hear the night scream, sirens and light beams
Firing off bad shots, hittin' people they ain't mean to pop
The neighborhood's in shock, block extremely hot
'Nother black teen shot that's a dull routine to cops
They shoulda got good grades, worked a minimum wage
Now he layin' on that stretcher with nothing in him to save
Keep it ghetto and whatever ghetto you at
Just don't love the ghetto, cuase the ghetto don't love you back

[Verse 2: Masta Killa]
Tryna' be around this music it's therapeutic, first thoughts of the day it's so clear
When I walk in my head there's a voice that talks, in my ear I can hear it so clear
[Method Man] You think i'm buggin right?

[Verse 3: U-god]
Listen, oh shit.... Yo
The average man wouldn't last that long
She like to work out, run marathons
She wear tight skirts with no panties on
She's a six foot one bronze Amazon
Singin', complaining all the good men is gone
I'm from Babylon, she reads the Qur'an
Visits all the jails and the nail salons
She rock Coco Chanel, her smell was strong
With skin like velvet she rocked my bed
She gave me long head, sipping Long Island Red
She spread eagle at the tip of the bed
She rubbed on her legs this is what I said
Rap music's therapeutic to me, rap music's therapeutic to me!

[Verse 4: Method Man]
Hey yo
You ain't lived till you made your first million
And top models wanna swallow your children
I thought I told you Wu Tang is for the children
Way before rap movin' crack in your buildings
Yeah, now what’s the price of rice in China?
These women tryin' to raise the price on they vagina
Me? I’m trying to live the life and get the grind up
Like Diddy, but I ain’t trying to give the Shyne up
Pop pop, pop-off no question, see Ol' Dirty, like it raw no protection
When the kid hold court, no objections
Meth needs his money at the door, no exceptions
I go hard in the paint on a rapper
I go harder on a pussy no Viagra
You think I’m tripping, ain’t into tricking
But keep a snow bunny in the kitchen
I’m the master like Killa