Box In Hand (feat. Method Man & Street)

Featuring Raekwon, Method Man *Sung* Wu Tang will survive, no no no-no no no Wu Tang will survive Cause every time they flip a party You know the party screams and shouts Cause you... DAMN! Aw, TC that was the bomb... (Ghostface) Get all my peoples, get all my peoples headphones All of em Lay em a death warrant Aaaah, yo, show it off, kid, show em, what, what Let em have it, bust it, hey yo, hey yo One: Raekwon Blend wine, who want to win mine Shorty get a ten-round for floatin With the richest, huh Flexed out, Flinstone style Your criminal pen pal kidnapped Loud, jetted the Moseying, posing for them niggaz up in Poland Rollin wax style museum, G 'em Them richest niggaz bless this like Russian cut VVS's Slide the hatchback, black were finessing this Them niggaz over there know, Gazelle goggles And them Lottos, 88 style, throwing bottles (bottles) Scenario rap, rap imperial, material (uh, yo yo, yo, yo) Murdering cats is like that real Two: Ghostface Yo come do me something word to Michelob peep the Land Rov' Sleeper hold club faggots lay your dome on a stove It's like space kid, the whole world is pitch black, granola rap Dough got smaller famous team, walked up in Photomat Black down, numerous rounds, boots is brown Getaway driver, this white bitch from out of town We love horse races shaking Jakes and high-speed chases Porno stations, drinking violations, God relations 90 minute Maxwell tapes, instrumental breaks Banging earaches, lay my verse down in two takes The speaker pops, the Winchester rifle's in the kitchen Murder the DJ's eyes twitching, woofer hissing Interlude: Raekwon Yo, he's strong arming, manipulating niggaz, scraping niggaz Taking play from niggaz, hate faking niggaz, yo you hear me? The whole shit's like wrestling What you dare me? Back the fuck up kid, we flexing Three: Method Man This rap shit bust yo' gums, and leave you stunned Pull your plug, now you can't function There's no total or sum to this equation, you frozen Many may come but few are chosen Pretty niggaz want to play the war posing When the ruckus come, they be the first to get their shine stolen Do or die, it be I, Meta-physical Man Holding court from my Wu, indivisible Clan I see your thoughts and your hand reaching It's getting deep in this mud Cats heat seeking, for one blood Nameless thugs with aimless slugs, shooting at these stank bitches Less he gon' bring this above, I make switches From the lamp I grant three wishes Johnny be parleying, I Blaze britches, then I roll One hundred percent mind, one hundred percent body One hundred percent soul, individual Assholes tend to run From this PLO extortion to the one The next chamber, you fucking with the star spangler To the dawn's early light with this head-banger Boogie, represent this shit fully Like I'm constantly at war with the town bully Who want that pressure, about to get smacked silly Like a fat bitch in Spandex, 'Free Willy'! We on some milli, check the joint, engine number nine Niggaz wasting time worrying about me and mine Get your own shit