The Grand Prix Featuring U-God & Street Life (feat. U-God & Street Life)

Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the lyrical grand prix
 We have our drivers racin' for a three million dollar purse
 Winner takes all gentlemen start your engines
 Give me room hit the tune
 Feature presentation comin' soon early June
 Killa Bee platoon well groomed
 Spells doom raise the volume
 You react like a werewolf in a full moon
 With the force of a trojan horse
 Pushin' forward, have your seat belt fastened
 We blastin' into orbit, Wu restore the new chamber
 Wu-banger number 9, expert precision and design
 Mastermind the plan took a matter of time
 From the confines of the cold world I shine
 It's amazin', the grace, change in the place
 Blazin' the brakes, invadin' the space
 Switchin' lanes in the race, claimin' first place
 Raisin the stakes, it's a game to the fakes
 I own many jewels, drop more than I wear
 I come in peace, prepare for the warfare
 The invincible fold, when they're caught in the square
 And the talk mad shit when the coast is clear
 Yes, ladies and gentlemen
 We've just completed the first lap
 Blood kin, knowledge, knowledge, I build with rap scholars
 Guns and wallets, prowess, Staten Island stylist
 12 man roster, live long, prosper
 Street philosopher, you end up like Jimmy Hoffa
 Ain't a damn thing changed but the aim, bullet range
 Strange universe, I was nursed to blow your mainframe
 Think first, convert, all verse live in concert
 Pull a skirt, burst, while y'all niggas star search
 Mind your's, why you eyein' mines for
 Posin' like a Matten dog, I must got somethin' you want to die for
 Touch mine, reach him up, his headline, both grant
 9 inch rusty splint push through your nose vent
 Got my eyes on the grand prize, place your bet
 Watch me win it by a landslide, pull off an upset
 Hold the burner close by my hands and my pocket
 Hold the trophy high and keep my eyes on the prophet
 And a new driver has entered the contest
 Ladies and gentlemen, driver number 99
 In the red car
 Fog lights beam, car 99 supreme
 A high-powered machine spits sparks of baroline
 The smell of gasoline, motor roar, the crowd roars
 The rag tuck rip, box cut caught in my jaws
 Enforcin' my laws, rap mirage in your garage
 The grease lightnin', dusty rose, shake him, bon voyage
 Now duel of the iron, flyin' fued for you writers
 The speed demon, rebel talk, triggers, freedom fighters
 Was tracked in the cock pit, I'm writin' exact
 I'm crushin' corners, who that kid ridin' the track
 With the Wu helmet, 6th nigga, 5 cars back
 The last but not least, I blitz through the scrimmage
 No brakes, I dart, I'm racin' for the finish
 Understand my hunger for my land down under
 It's the thunderous rush, after the sounds get crush
 The purse snatchin' pound, by all means snatch cream
 Tear your ass out of town
 As we near the final lap
 Team Wu-Tang seems to be buildin'
 A sizable lead on the competition
 Yo, I know how to fold 'em like Kenny Rogers
 Popular demand, overstand these piranhas
 Movin' on the track like a Monaco GT
 I stand out similar to 3D on your TV
 Easily breezin' watchin' the speed dial climb
 Style of rhyme, left the foes miles behind
 Leavin' skid marks on the charts
 Aimed at the hearts of the fake, sparks on the tapes
 It's starts from the gate, darts penetrate
 Freestyle as the decoy the sharks took the bait
 Holdin' major weight, my Supreme Team dominates
 Circulatin', takin' all bets you place
 In and out of state, twirlin' L's on the freeway
 NY to SC, NC to VA, GA to MD, CA to KY
 Fl to IL, TX to MI
 As we near the checkered flake, ladies and gentlemen
 Team Wu-Tang's holdin' down the 1st, 2nd and 3rd positions
 And it looks like it's goin' to be another sure win for Team Wu-Tang
 As they take home another pot of gold
 With this three million dollar purse
 Rebel INS, you-God, Street Life
 ♪
 Get the loot, get the loot
 ♪
 Cash money y'all, cash money y'all, cash money y'all