[Intro: Fists of Fury film clip]

"Hold it!

Now you get out of here, I'm warning you"

"You bastards can't push us around – you wanna fight?"

"I'll take you on"

[Intro: Raekwon]

That nigga's twisted

Stop playin with that clip, man

Close them fuckin' blinds too, man, y'knahmsayin?

Yo, Dava, man, get out of the stove, man!

Get away from the stove, nigga!

Stop playin', man! The fuck is you talkin 'bout?

[Verse 1: Raekwon]

I'm in the crib, watchin' Larry King Live, the new Guccis on

Refrigerator, smoking some kush, this nigga salada

Swisher, becoming a roach, go get the glass ashtray

Pour the glass of Cru, tap the bottle, then toast

Bari took a sip for the cause, yeah, my son

Soon to be three, tried to fill his bottle then run

Then I got a Collect call, heard niggas down the block is fighting

Some nigga got knifed up brawling

Heard the kid was 19, little Infiniti too

His father worked up at the dealer, he love Wu

They tried him for his Louis', son wasn't having it though

Yeah, yeah, my nigga, the color of glue

Decided I'ma intervene, guess who tried to wild on me, my nigga?

This is like out of the blue

I'm in the Range stretch, jumped out, tucked the chain

Proceeded to talk to him, then you heard the heavy face slap

Think I broke my wrist, now I'm at the hospital, vexed

Fucked up my writing hand, that's my check

Now I wanna kill this little nigga true

Only thing stopping my gun flaming, 'cause he related to you

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]

Who? He ain't related to me!

Just that I knew him for like eighteen years

Until he violated, stealing my gear

My little homie, yo, he eat anything for me

Send him Uptown, he get bagged, yo, he never call me

Come home and still blow cats for me

Pump crack, stabbing all them hoodrat shorties

A live gunslinger, well known, born to dance when the heat is on

Stapleton days, shot his self in the groin

The gun went off, it looked like a flick when he fell to the floor

Holding his nuts, screaming, "Goddamnit!

Shit, I put one in my balls – what the fuck y'all looking at me for!?

Call the police, do somethin'!

Motherfuckers standin' around... watch when I get better

All hell's gonna be terror

Death to you... you!" he pointed at Red

I said, "Chill, that's fam duke

He put real work in that'd make you puke,"

Fuck that, but anyway – son, indeed, he stole two Polo rugbies

Swore to his dead mother, I couldn't take it, yo

Lord, I knocked out his teeth

Now he's rocking those false joints like everything's peace (Peace... peace...)