Song lyrics Redbull by Wu Tang Clan

[Redman]
RZA came and got me, this what I came to do, come on
Ring the bell so itīs time to eat
Brick Dog stash weed inta AMI-seats
Bomb isdide the palm
Doc rock a wifebeater with me beatin my wife ass iron dawn
The font of my appartment built like the Klumps
To carry it I take the spear out the trunk
I stay hungry, I ainīt worked for days
Thatīs why you see the pump when the curtains raise
Blast! Donīt panic
Do I gotta explain how I tame and lock the rapgame single-handed?
Hell nah! I wonīt tell you son
If I find a wack ID I sell you one
Doc and Hot Nick, Inspectah
My lectureīs like Hannibal Lectureīs
Whereīs the ketchup?
Donīt speak on it, shut ya trap
I see ya whole crew yellow like mustardpacks
Ah woo, Doc in my own zone
You say you got the rapgames on, but itīs all wrong
I ride through ya hood in a Mr. Softy-truck
Then pull a Mack out a box and smoke hoes
Yeah, ya little fucks
Gimme ya fucking money!

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*]

[Method Man]
Uhuh, check it
Iīm hotter than a hundred degrees with my coat on
Playing with a dynamitestick, where did I go wrong?
Somebody pull the fire along when Jonny stomp
If ya lukewarm leavin ya clothes and boots torn
Proīs and conīs, megabombīs and so-onīs
By arid actions try MCīs to get their roll on
First issue got issues
What is hiphop to Hot Nickles
Itīs like Funk Docterīs snot tissues, word
Look at my hand and get the third
Finger out ya earhole like: Fuck what you hear
Now thatīs what I call harcore, letīs act fool
Mr. Fix-It like Handyman I pack tool
I been shitty, Iīm from the veils of the city
And just because my outfit match donīt make me pretty
Baggy Dun Gurees, dick need room to breathe
In a room full of crackers I might cut the cheese
Ainīt no rules to the game, if it hit we ainīt planned
In your business like EPMD So What You Sayinī
You codesignin that bullshit yo man tryin
Chaka chaka cha-ta tatat!!
Slugs flyin

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon, Ghostface and Inspectah Deck*]

[Inspectah Deck]
Yo, ya
Check, the code echos from magazines to the big screen
Foī wheel machines like ya wits scream
Kids fiend from the urban to sub-urban
Roll upon me thirstin like: Hey, hey, Mister Dream-Merchant
We roll longer than dice in a casino
Silo in the 4, 5 or 6 with double 0
Behind the tinted windows I lay low
On some hydro tryin to slide from the 5-0
But now I get wild similar to Olī Dirty
On third time fellon just hit with over 30
No worries, style have em so thirsty
First degree heats are quittin on me
Cold turkey, no mercy
I bring the pain of a hundred migraines
But a thousand shoutin my name thatīs why I came
But first bring the cashburst, then the outburst
My surroundsound pound ya ear like ... curse
I flex muslce outside I find a next hustle
Trouble with ya here and face the TEC-muscle
Even the best buckle win
I take it to the exteme
It gets ugly, but itīs what a nigga do to get cream
This life

[*Shout-outs from Raekwon and Ghostface*]