[Intro: Method Man & Kung-Fu Samples]
[*Kung fu fighting*]
Yeah, uh, heheheh (That's Shadowboxing!)
Yo...
[Verse 1: Method Man]
It's that blacked out, spazzed out, G-String divas
Leave your ass out, passed out
It's cold – pack your heater, blow your back out your bad mouth
Make 'em all believers
Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either
See that cheeba and that hash out (Garbage day tomorrow)
And I have yet to take that trash out, and empty this cigar
RZA Ra, we amped, eh, Meth is on his job
It ain't nothing, like the French say, "que sera, sera" – so let's move on
Until the day we laying in the casket with them suits on
And I'm so cool that Hell is only luke warm
Been too strong, for too long
I'll probably die with my boots on
And on my way to cash a coochie coupon
You know I'm proper, don't let them boys confuse you
The fact is Meth come harder than bottles made by Yoo-Hoo
Wu-Tang, welcome to the House of Flying Daggers
Where the truth aim, flying out the mouth of flying rappers
There it is...
[Chorus: Method Man]
Now, ask yourself, is this for real? It can't be
My nigga, if it ain't for real, it ain't me
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
Now, ask yourself, why is he so low key?
Why is niggas pimpin' when the game chose me?
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
[Verse 2: Raekwon]
Yo, blew 'em and hit 'em, and he went into a spin cycle
Out blew his liver, a river flooded, what's happening
It's drugs we wanted, gloves buttered, thug coverage
This is Fila, white sneaker, Louis Vitton luggage
I came, representative huddle, they all love you
That W, the legacy of little niggas muggin' you
The fuck, what's up with you? Yo, you suck, nigga
Benches used to pluck niggas, we be on the roof, like "fuck you"
Them red beams is coming, losers, got to walk the plank
Users, with Uzi's on 'em, you move, you getting spanked
Shank broilers banked, alcoholics ranked ballers
They should call us, I rock mad ice like a walrus
The lamesters decided to lure us
We was up in Freedomtown, getting weeded, one Bentley tour bus
You might like the mack and explore dust
You can't fuck with all of us, one of us dropped, there's twenty more of us
[Chorus: Method Man]
Now, ask yourself, is this for real? It can't be
My nigga, if it ain't for real, it ain't me
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
Now, ask yourself, why is he so low key?
Why is niggas pimpin' when the game chose me?
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
[Verse 3: RZA]
Peel caps like tangerines, you shook, shake like tambourines
Then, jet from the set, in the all black Lamborghin'
Nobody seen me, bitch in a teeny red bikini
Niggas saw her, because they thought they saw a genie
Heidi Klum, pussy juicy, fat as a plum
Picture on the wall in jail, niggas jerk 'til they come
God gargantuan, large, colossus
Bombardment of darts, make your squad throw tantrums
Practice Kama Sutra on broads, pop bras
Leave birds with permanent scars and shit, like birthmarks
Digi bark back at dogs, snatch flies from frogs
Blow California chronic to despise the smog
This shit I been with biz in the clearing, pigs sharing
Got fresh Wu-Wear'ing motherfuckers not caring
Then move through your community, with diplomat immunity
Move to rep a two or G, shine like fine jewelry
[Chorus: Method Man]
Now, ask yourself, is this for real? It can't be
My nigga, if it ain't for real, it ain't me
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
Now, ask yourself, why is he so low key?
Why is niggas pimpin' when the game chose me?
I, elect myself as presidential MC
I, elect myself as presidential MC
[Outro: kung fu sample & Method Man]
The Shadow Sword...
Uh, hahaha
The Shadow Sword...