Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
2nd Generation Wu
2nd Generation Wu
Performer
Dontae Hawkins
Dontae Hawkins
Rap
Shakuan Smith
Shakuan Smith
Rap
Dennis Ames
Dennis Ames
Rap
Young Dirty Bastard
Young Dirty Bastard
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dontae Hawkins
Dontae Hawkins
Songwriter
Shakuan Smith
Shakuan Smith
Songwriter
Dennis Ames
Dennis Ames
Songwriter
Young Dirty Bastard
Young Dirty Bastard
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
J. Glaze
J. Glaze
Producer

Lyrics

"I don't know how y'all see it
But when it comes to the children
Wu-Tang is for the children
We teach the children"
God made everything around me, forget about the–
(Check this old fly shit out)
God made everything around me, forget about the money
None of it is real y'all
Its been 23 long hard years I'm still hustling
I was brought up around these beats to kill something
Started off talkin' shit in the booth, I'm still frontin'
Terror alert on orange, my **** a peel something
This is cynical, talk crazy, spitting them rhymes
Ill ****, cracked my head and started gushin' my lines
Since the womb, you know P been chuckin' up the W
Respect my lost borough
It's still nothin' to fuck with, too
I move heaven and earth with two fingers
Paralyzing weak **** with these Killa Bee stingers
We don't hear that weak shit that you bring up
Poppin' your lips, balling my fist
Making sure you sip the food that you heat up
You ain't know, that your chick was a eater
Boppin' the God in the crib
Rollin' shooters while I'm kickin' my feet up
P, the best you never heard
Bars hittin' like you stomped on the curb
Fuck outta here
I done heard you spit ya best 16
I'm damn hot, so you gon' get sketch from a flame
No horseshit, I'm wet from the rain
When the temperature rise, ya identity get left in the flames
'Cause you could get left in the train
'Cause when it comes to grindin', I bum it out
Like fresh not his name
I used to be impressed by you lame
Now when you see the Mac shells fly out, like jets in Ukraine
Be fast life, try to throw a hex on my name, I play with wit y’all
But no I’m not a game, Badda Boom Badda Bing
I’ll open up a wound on your face
Continue to roll through like skates
Nine shots out the nine, rattle the whole trunk like bass
With an ultra violet lens on it k
You scared? I should punch you in your face
You better be aware 'cause these shells I'ma put 'em where I can't
How sick am I?
High coming down like a building in September
My smiley face is gone because it's cold in December
Gotta celebrate new years to go hard and to remember
I need a reminder, a bitch like Rihanna
I'm 'bout to hit the billboard monopoly get more
If you knew better you’d do better ask Snoop Dogg
In Brooklyn weep when it rains the bodies fall
Your little brother better pick up when Dirty call
I'm the Godfather not the movie fuck y’all
Tony Montana, I’m Ol' Dirty Bastard
Young Dirty, red red blue bandana
Who the fuck wanna fucking stop me? I’m crazy
**** wanna stop me
My rhymes are so blazing
Hip-hop persuasion **** for occasion
You can’t get too friendly with ****, they might bite you
Pretend fake like you, really wantin' to knife you
Cut their own nose, I suppose just to spite you
I find that shit annoying, but also kinda delightful
Grown man shit, with my dad face on
Found a path, aftermath after blasting their songs
It’s a craft, if you catch it then you crash or stay long
Call me Shaft, Black magic how I mastered every song
Process in the core like processing the raw
Cocaine uncut, balloon bust in your gut
Not enough, add some glass, so y’all can see all the cuts
It’s a must, like those loud armpits upon the bus
See, I ain't put bars to a beat like this in ages
Can’t contain me in a cage, so try cages
Music penetrating the races, all the ages
And watch me just erase all the racists from my spaceship
God made everything around me, forget about the money
None of it is real y'all
God made everything around me, forget about the money
None of it is real y'all
God made everything around me, forget about the money
None of it is real y'all
God made everything around me, forget about the money
None of it is real y'all-aaaah
Yeah!
Written by: Dennis Ames, Dontae Hawkins, Shakuan Smith, Young Dirty Bastard
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