[Remix of "9 Milli Bros."]

[Intro: RZA]

Bob Digi, U G.O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspectah Deck

M.E.T.H.O.D., the B.O.B.B.,

Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA/The Genius

It's the Ol' d-d-d- d-d-d- d-d-Dirty Bastard!

[ODB] 1, 2, 1, 2, (Killa Beez) turn it up

The headphones, turn it up.. yo you hear me?

[Cappa] Whattup Tony?

[Ghost] Wassup don-don?

[ODB] All the way up...

[Ghost] You know how we do...

[Cappa] Let's get this paper together...

[Ghost] You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh huh

[Cappa] What's up, y'all?

[Ghost] We wanna do it nigga

[ODB] You know how I do...

[Ghost] Sound about to go in on some real Wu shit, uh huh

[Cappa] W-T-C

[Ghost] That's right

[Ghost] Ya know what I mean?

[RZA] GHOST-FACE KILLAH!

[Ghost] Lemme give y'all the bullshit hook for y'all niggas

Check it out...

[Hook: Ghostface Killah]

The burners and the stash, we 'bout the cash

We got females that got it like that

Thе golden childs that bone the crowd

See, niggas in thе place that bit my style

Well, I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers

Wu-Tang got the answer

Cause if I had a chance to do it again

I will still keep the heat in my pants-uh

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

Y'all be nice to the crackheads, everybody listen up

I shot one of my bitches, the ho ain't trick enough

Word life to big screen Don, tapping dustbones out

With starwriters like I fucked Celine Dion

Stuck everything that's the god's honest beyond

We airin' niggas out, that's the type shit that we on

Official Wu-Tang headbanger

Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka

[Verse 2: Raekwon]

I drink heavy gallons of cru, play the big part

Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks

Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose

Yellow swede one matching hat with the grey gun

Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up

We all throw down y'all broke niggas stay frontin'

Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jewelry on

Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin'

Two of my silverbacks run through a pack of your wolves

Front on react, we're sippin' Cognac brew relax dude

Know I'm with these cracks dude

[Verse 3: Ol' Dirty Bastard]

1-2, 1-2, yo, Dirt McGirt

Solid tone smith with 6th shots, lick shots

Leave your head like a Shaolin monk with 6 dots

Brooklyn Zoo, Zoo

Brooklyn Zoo

[Verse 4: Cappadonna]

It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor

Smash pretty boy niggas, crush their karma

Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage

My whole crew's fresh out the bars

Diggler AKA the Cab Driver

Drop him off in the middle of fire

Dirty Island, drag bodies to the Murderland

Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand

[Verse 5: Method Man]

I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners

Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us

Staten's where the war is

Where the court system's running out of warrants

Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus

For real I can't call it

You see I love Lucy cause she Lawless

Exactly like that 1-0-3-0-4 is

Snitch niggas swallow your tongue

Already know the island I'm from

And y'all don't want no problems with them

[Verse 6: GZA]

We got a history full of lightning victories

Conceptual breakthrough, it ain't no mystery

Long vision from giants in every way

Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day

From the East to the 'ville, from the West to the hills

Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills

From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous

We hit 'em fast with an effortless performance

MCs start fleeing in flocks

Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock

[Verse 7: Inspectah Deck]

We grindin' down to the bone, my name grounded in stone

I'm Mr. Violence we loungin' with chrome

Mr. Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome

Shining like a hundred thousand in stones

Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero

1-6-zero my zone, we throwin' elbows

The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings

Only dime dikes with minds right, we choose Queens

[Verse 8: Masta Killa]

Yeah, we wild like rockstars who smash guitars

Yo, son, split his face with the toast, he ain't ghost

It's no joke iron coat rifle with the stroke

One toke brains float, shot to the throat

Before the smoke hit, witness the killing, chilling crime scene

Body on the block, eyes open from the shock

Of being popped in the neck

Yet he still held a lit cigarette between his fingers

Danger when you step into the chamber with the Masta

Disaster, gotta blast ya cause I have to

[Verse 9: U-God]

The rat pack is back from the island of Stat'

Leave you cursed dust, cause you worship the Gat

The first one to snap drunk off the Smirnoff

Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss

Handcuffed, to the turntables like Wizard Theodore

See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces

Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers

You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast

That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash