Then And Now

Yeah... what? What?
 Justice. yeah. check it out
 I never hesitate to drop a verse, I rhyme first
 Repeat it so often, it's well rehearsed
 Rap stars, come through, rock the universe
 I watch from afar just to see what they be doing first
 Some was at they worst, dying of thirst
 Others push through like the troops in Iraq, yo
 But what did Bush do? See, I don't know a thing about politics
 But flowing to the beat, is as dirty as my collar gets
 The wildest child is gifted and talented
 But change they style, will never wanna challenge it
 You telling me to rhyme to the melody
 I take time with my words like I'm in the spelling bee
 If I don't make the grade, I don't make the record
 Once that's accomplished, then my rhymes respect it
 As long as we stay on track, and then
 We can rhyme back to back, whatever, kid
 One, two, we coming with the Wu
 Three, four, we knocking at your door
 Five, six, we eat them grits
 Seven, to the eight, we don't hate
 Nine to the ten, and we still wanna win.
 (Wanna win, wanna win...)
 Yo, I terrorize shorty with the Iron Palm
 When I step on stage, I clutch the mic strong
 That melody was flowing, while that beat was going
 When the waves connect in my ear, that pen starts going
 Cuz when I get on the mic, I rock it so ill
 That's why they call me the Little Masta Kill'
 I'm like rock and stone, put together
 These dudes come in my face like "blah blah whatever"
 So I had to hit the dude in the chest, B
 These little fake MC's just want to test me
 I thought I told you before, I'm not a toy
 I'm just a young boy, what? Doing my thing
 Brooklyn, Brooklyn, with the Brooklyn slang, come on
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 One, two, we coming with the Wu
 Three, four, we knocking at your door
 Five, six, we eat them grits
 Seven, to the eight, we don't hate
 Nine to the ten, and we still wanna win.
 (Wanna win, wanna win...)
 Wu-Tang Clan Killa Beez
 Rock all my enemies, with the double D's
 Double CD's, ride for the enemies
 With the rocking-the-mic right, roll up with the typewrite
 Rocking my Nike Flight, ballin' with the nice
 And I'm rippin' the mic right, and you know who it is
 It's the Young kid P, from the Brooklyn side
 Brooklyn's Finest, Brownsville
 Knew our attack, and what the gats do, Plaza, all day, baby
 Yeah... can't lose, and we still gon' win forever
 Young Godz forever
 Peace to the Gods and the Earths forever
 Kareem Just, Shamel Irief, the Young Prince
 Yeah, yeah, Allah Just you know how do this thing, man